


till human voices wake us, and we drown.

by Lola_McGee



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alex Danvers is lesbian bait, Alternate Universe - No Powers, CW: mention of suicide, CW: references to the Holocaust, Communism, Crossdressing, Even a murder mystery?, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone is super dramatic and gay, F/F, Happens before the story begins, Just an excuse for Wardrobe Porn, Kara and Lena are so thirsty for each other it's unbelievable, Lots of Yiddish, Mystery, The Danvers Are Jewish, and so is Kara, noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-09 17:37:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lola_McGee/pseuds/Lola_McGee
Summary: "Kara Danvers will freely admit that there is a lot she doesn’t know.  But this… This story doesn’t begin with things she doesn’t know (such as the…importanceof a particular nightclub near the docks in National City), but rather something she does.What Kara does know is that a dame with gorgeous legs in a little black dress spells trouble.  But damn if she isn’t as weak as Snapper’s suspenders."OR:Former PI and current rookie reporter Kara Danvers is contacted by Lena Luthor, who doesn't believe the official story about her brother's death and wants the truth.  Of course, the truth is far more complicated than anyone set out to find.  Along the way, there's plenty of red herrings, cross dressing, wardrobe porn, and communism.  Also an overly long, very gay, train ride.OR:The Noir AU that one person begged me to write and I obliged.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlebrother](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebrother/gifts).



> The title is from TS Eliot's Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, my favourite poem. Several lines from the poem are also wholesale stolen throughout the fic.
> 
> Anyway! I have been working on this fic for about... well over a month now. Probably longer. It all started (as it usually does) when @littlebrother and I were yelling at each other. And then this fic started shaping up, and honestly she's as much of a cocreator, but also only I know the answer to the mystery sooooo.....
> 
> Also! There's lot of yiddish through out this fic; like way too much yiddish. I mean, not so much in this chapter, but in the other chapters is skyrockets. So I'm put small translation notes at the end but I probably missed some. Fun fact, though, b/c 95% the yiddish I speak is entirely spoken and never written, I had to reference google for the spellings.
> 
> Finally, lots of inspiration, obviously, goes to classic black and white movies; Some Like it Hot, Dial M for Murder, Citizen Kane and Vertigo being the four films that I drew direct inspiration from.

Kara Danvers will freely admit that there is a lot she doesn’t know. But this… This story doesn’t begin with things she doesn’t know (such as the… _importance_ of a particular nightclub near the docks in National City), but rather something she does.

What Kara does know is that a dame with gorgeous legs in a little black dress spells trouble. But damn if she isn’t as weak as Snapper’s suspenders.

So when a dame with legs from here to divine walks into her office (or, well, the National City Tribune’s office, but Kara works there so it is technically _her_ office), Kara knows she shouldn’t stare. But she can’t stop herself. It’s made all the worst by the fact that she recognizes the dame; something about her jawline that can cut glass, green eyes that make Kara’s knees weak, the way her hair’s pulled up into a braid. It’s a face she’s seen in her fantasies one too many times for her _not_ to know.

But before Kara can put together the pieces, the dame is standing in front of her. In fact the dame is standing in front of her with an opened cigarette case, offering one to Kara. Needlessly the dame adds, “Cigarette, Ms. Danvers?”

(Her voice is honey, sliding down Kara’s body like a wandering hand; a wandering hand that Kara much appreciates. And her name rolling out from between those bright red lips is almost enough to make Kara forget that it’s her name.)

Kara takes one, rolling it between her fingers. “Many thanks. But how did--”

The dame shrugs. “Your name is on the desk.”

Kara flushes. “Ah, right, that’s so.” Then, hurriedly changing the subject. “Got a light?”

In lieu of responding, the dame reaches into her case once more, drawing out a Zippo; she leans over the table before flicking it open.

(Kara’s eyes are drawn down, at how the flickering flame outlines the swell of the dame’s cleavage; Kara’s eyes are drawn down, at how the dame seems to be lowering herself more than necessary, but just enough to let Kara’s eyes follow the gentle curve of where her waist flairs out to her hips.)

(Kara’s eyes are drawn down at her, and… finally the last piece clicks.)

Kara lights her cigarette and takes a long drag on it; blowing the air out slowly, and they both watch the smoke lazily rise to the ceiling before Kara speaks. “You’re that Luthor gal, ain’t ya?”

The dame nods, as her body stiffens with the question. “Lena Luthor.”

(Lena Luthor the star, and not only of Kara’s many, _many_ late night fantasies.)

Kara smiles at her.

(Kara’s told that her smile is disarming; that it engenders some kind of trust in her. And well, if it disarms a beautiful woman like Lena Luthor, then she’s all for using it.) 

“Big fan. I heard about your brother; real shame, offing himself like that.”

And Lena relaxes; or rather, she’s guarded, but in a different way. “Actually that’s why I’m here, Ms. Danvers. My brother did not kill himself.”

“Ya came to my neck of the woods to… tell me that? I’m honoured Ms. Luthor, I am, but the cops did their job. They called it a suicide, that’s what we took to print.”

Lena shakes her head. “Look, I know my brother. An egomaniac? Sure. Delusions of Godhood? Certainly. Suicidal? Never.”

“Now, listen here, Ms. Luthor. I ain’t doubting ya; if you tell me that your brother didn’t kill himself, then I believe ya. He didn’t kill himself. I’m just wondering why you came to…” Kara gestures her hand around, “a newsie place like this? We ain’t gonna print the story unless we got something real. It’s the cops and those private dicks who can help. Not a simple newsgal like me.”

“And were you not yourself, Ms. Danvers, a…” Lena tilts her head at Kara, “private dick?”

Kara shrugs, a sly smile teasing her lips. “Ain’t nothing really private about it.”

Lena chuckles. (And Kara is instantly addicted to the sound.) “Be that as it may, I have it on good authority that you, Ms. Danvers, were amazing at your job. The Pinkertons called on you daily, wanting you to work for them. But then--”

Kara cut her off. “Then I got real a hankering for reporting, and so I’m a genuine newsgal now and not a Pinko.”

Lena smirks; it’s dangerous, the way that it makes Kara’s eyes fixate on Lena’s canines. They’re… sharp, in an agreeable manner. (Very agreeable, Kara would argue in her more private moments.) “What, never had any… Red tendencies?”

Kara flushes again, but she manages, somehow, to keep her voice steady. “And I believe that there’s a deflection, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena smiles and shrugs. “What can I say? That’s the entire reason I have a job.” She then reaches in between her cleavage, pulling out a small card. “But I’ve taken up enough of your time. If you want the story of the year, Ms. Danvers, come to this address at 8 tonight. It’s freely your choice.”

And without waiting for a response, Lena turns and walks away.

(Kara’s eyes, once again, are drawn Lena. This time, she’s drawn to the sway of Lena’s hips as she exits.)

When Lena Luthor is out of sight, Kara takes a look down to the cigarette in her hand, still burning, and she takes another drag; shifting her attention to the card she recognizes the address. It’s in the good part of National City; the part of the city where her paper will actually print if someone dies.

As she watches the smoke, once again, drift upward, there’s one thing Kara knows. She’s not going to take the job, and she’s never going to meet Lena Luthor again.

* * *

At 8 o’clock, Kara finds herself pacing just outside the address given; specifically she’s standing in front of what appears to be a hangover from Prohibition. The building has no sign above it. Nothing to give away what, exactly, it is. The only clue are the women rushing in and out of the building; those going in seeming sober, those going out not so; if the way they grasp onto their companion’s arms, feet stumbling over the curb, is any indication.

The person to blame, however, is standing beside her; her former partner in PI-ing and best friend. Her sister, Alex Danvers.

( _“Ya just--ya gonna to ignore Lena Luthor’s request? She’s Lena goddamn Luthor, Kara.”_ was the entirety of the discussion. When Kara opened her mouth to object, Alex just gave her one look and that was it.)

Speaking of: “I ain’t ever heard of this place Kara.” Alex whispers it, rather unnecessarily.

“So?” Kara chose to, rather reasonably, responding in a normal voice.

“So?” Alex hisses. “So, that’s kinda my job, if ya remember. I case the places and learn about them.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Alex, I don’t think that any place that _Lena Luthor_ is at is gonna be dangerous.”

“Ya should still let me go in first.”

“And as I’ve told ya before, I ain’t stoppin’ ya. Ya already dressed for the part.”

And it’s true; Alex is wearing a flapper dress, green cascading down her body before stopping just above the knee in truly scandalous fashion. It’s the only dress that Alex actually likes to wear.

(Kara, for her part, hasn’t changed since leaving the paper. So she’s still wearing her blue button down, pocket buttoned open and sleeves rolled up to her elbows as to avoid them staining with ink, and her brown trousers, held up by her suspenders. She worries, suddenly, that she’s underdressed.)

Alex just stares at Kara for a moment, before shaking her head. “Okay, so I’m gonna go in. Wait 3 minutes and if ya ain’t heard anything then follow me in. Capiche?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Who the hell says capiche Alex?” Alex’s stare turns into a glare and Kara raises her hands placatingly. “Okay, okay! Capiche.”

With that, Alex slips inside. And Kara stands outside, counting to 180 in her head.

(And, okay, she may not be spacing them out enough, and sure once she reaches 180 it’s probably only been about 90 seconds, but Alex… Alex is just being too cautious.)

And when Kara steps in, she freezes at the door, eyes opening wide.

It’s not… exactly unexpected. There had been rumours about Lena Luthor… that she was… Well, this is some kind of evidence, if circumstantial, that Lena Luthor is part of a sewing circle.

(That doesn’t stop Kara from pausing, taking in the sight around her.)

(The sight being women; lots and lots of women. Women with slicked back hair, dressed much like Kara. Others in long dresses and corsets, hair done fancily. A brave few wearing Knickerbockers and sleeveless blouses. And in a corner…)

Kara rolls her eyes when she spots Alex in a corner, her head leaned in close to a tall brunette. Both have a drink in hand. 

(Kara can’t see Alex’s full face, but she sees a carefree smile teasing the corner of Alex’s lips.)

(So much for backup.)

But Alex… Alex isn’t who Kara’s here for. Nor are any of these women. None of them except…

Seated off to the side (but definitely not in a corner) Kara spies the one and only Lena Luthor, whose eyes are locked on Kara, lips (painted what seems to be a much brighter pink colour than earlier) curled around a wine glass. When she catches Kara’s eye, she cocks an eyebrow; Kara supposes that’s all the invitation she’s going to receive.

As she makes her way over, Kara lets her eyes trail Lena once again. Her hair has been let down in loose waves, and she’s wearing a… well fitted dress, the neckline plunging only modestly. Kara notices that it shimmers and shifts in the little light that there is, a golden shine.

Lena smirks at Kara, her pupils widened (whether because of the dim room or some other reason, Kara doesn’t know). “Ms. Danvers. And here I thought you weren’t going to show.”

“Kara, please. I ain’t working right now.”

Lena chuckles. “I mean…”

Kara shrugs. “Fine, then I ain’t at my job.”

“Then call me Lena.”

“Lena.” Kara tests the name in her mouth, letting it roll around. It feels… odd; she isn’t comfortable calling someone like _Lena Luthor_ by their first name. But who is she do deny the request?

“Kara.” A teasing tone underlies Lena’s use of her name; it doesn’t stop a shiver from running down Kara’s spine.

“So, what did ya ask me here for Lena?”

She shrugs. “I like the… ambience. It suits me and my kind.”

Kara leans forward a little, drawn into Lena’s space almost unconsciously. “And what kind is that exactly, Ms.--Lena?”

Lena laughs. “Oh, I’ll leave it to you to figure that out Kara.”

Kara makes a point of scanning the nightclub, eyeing the women milling about; especially those who are too close to be mistaken for anything but the most bosom of buddies. “I think this place is for my kind as well.”

(Kara doesn’t know where the confidence comes from, but she does figure it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity; a once in history opportunity, even.)

Lena flushes, her smile softening as she casts her eyes downward. They sit like this for a moment, in companionable silence; before Lena looks up again, her eyes serious. “I’d offer you a drink Kara, but I don’t know if you’d like to stay after hearing the full story.”

Kara shrugs and smiles. “How about I hear ya story first, and then I decide if I want the drink.”

It doesn’t elicit the laugh that Kara had hoped. Instead Lena merely regards her with a cool gaze before speaking. “Well, let me start at the beginning.”

* * *

“Lex is… was a complicated man. He did a lot of wrong in his life, don’t get me wrong. But… Well if the man has--had a single virtue, he was an excellent brother. For all his faults, I--people should give him credit for at least that.

“I’m telling you this because I, of all people, am painfully aware of how he lost himself in his mania. Even before he ran for Governor, I saw him slowly slip away. He--He didn’t understand the idea of people not loving him; at least not in the way that he thought he ought to be loved. Criticism stung him, but even worse, he’d take that criticism and run in the opposite direction; more and more entrenched in his own ideas. Some… some would probably call him a visionary for that. I call him mad.” Lena takes a sip of her wine; Kara’s eyes are glued to how her throat bobs as she swallows. “The last time I called him that to his face… well, he had just lost the Governor’s race, but wouldn’t--wouldn’t concede. You probably know what happened next; his rant and finger-pointing made the front page news.” Lena chuckles mirthlessly. “You might have even written the article on that. Anyway, he never spoke to me again. Not between then and the day he died. One whole goddamn year without a word from him. Not even a letter.

“But… That mania, that single minded dismissal of criticism. That’s why I don’t think he killed himself. There’s no way my brother had the constitution for it. It was his greatest weakness. If he--I remember one night he stood on cliff, staring off the edge. The waters below were dark, a murky, inky thing. About two hours north of here, outside a little coast town called Midvale. I--I asked him to take a step back, to stop himself from accidentally falling off the edge. And he… he just looked at me. And I remember him saying “Little bird, if I fell, I’d sprout wings like Icarus. And it’s night, so there’s no sun to melt my wings.” That’s how Lex thought; if he killed himself that’s how he would have died. Doing something that, in his delusion, he thought he could do.”

Lena sighs, her fingers fidgeting with the stem of her glass. Kara just remains silent, waiting for her to continue. After a moment she does. “I know… I know this isn’t the best explanation; that as easily he could believe he could fly, he could have--he could have…” Her voice cracks; and she looks away from Kara for a moment. “I know I may just be holding onto a false hope, that Lex didn’t kill himself. That he was murdered. It would give him the end that he deserves; perfectly dramatic and not at all tragic. But when they told me… that he had tied that rope and--” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t believe it. Something else is going on. And I _need_ you, Kara Danvers, to find out the truth.”

* * *

That… That was much less than Kara had hoped for; she had hoped for _evidence_ , a lead, even a dubious clue would be of great help. There’s no case here, nothing for her to track down or solve. Just one woman, upset with grief, trying to rationalize the irrational actions of her irrational brother. Kara should say no, she can’t take the case. Dammit, she’s not even a PI anymore. But…

Lena needs her. And that one reason outweighs all the others. “I’ll find the truth for you, Ms. Luthor.” Kara reaches out her hand onto the table, placing it gently on Lena’s hand. Lena smiles softly, what looks like an attractive blush painting her cheeks pink. “So why don’t we go over potential suspects first?”

What ensues turns out to be a far more productive conversation. After all, a man like Lex Luthor collected enemies like horseshit collects flies.

“Well we have the obvious suspects: Governor Lane, Bruce Wayne and Maxwell Lord. All had reason to hold a grudge against my brother. Governor Lane for obvious reasons; Bruce Wayne and Maxwell Lord because they were business rivals. They were all vying to get a contract with that new actress, what’s her name?” Lena drifts off a moment, before waving her hand. “It’s not important. What is is the fact that squabbles like that are common; if Lex had won too many, either might have been tempted to solve the problem… _permanently_.”

“Just those three?”

Lena frowns, her eyes looking up to the left. “Well… I don’t want to sound like a paranoid old biddy or anything like that, but… at Lex’s funeral. There was only one person I didn’t recognize. A woman; I’d say that she was Lex’s latest paramour but I’d have heard about her. Lex didn’t go out much… after. Business was brought to the Luthor House and to him directly.”

“I thought ya didn’t talk to Lex for a year. How would ya have heard about it?”

Lena smiles sadly. “I had to make sure he didn’t do anything too dramatic. But,” she sighs, “there’s a good chance I didn’t succeed.”

Kara decides, hurriedly, to change the topic. “So, does this mystery woman have a name?”

Lena chuckles; her eyes lighting up just a little. Kara counts that as a victory. “She probably does, but alas I do not know it. She did spend some time talking to Jess, my secretary, but that was probably in passing. Jess is… usually close by my side. But Jess might have gotten a name, which is at least a place to start.”

Lena stiffens suddenly, and stands, pushing the rest of last of her drink over to Kara. She then reaches under her table; retrieving a bottle of wine and also putting it in front of Kara. “Unfortunately, Kara, I have just realized that I’m late for a pressing engagement. But I have shared everything I know. As an apology for having to dash, please enjoy the rest of this wine.” Lena starts to exit.

“Wait!” Kara grabs Lena’s wrist, briefly; an electric shock jolts through Kara’s hand and she hastily withdraws, biting her lower lip in embarrassment. “Sorry for doing that to ya, but…” She catches Lena’s eye; Lena’s simply smiling. “How can I contact ya if I need any more information? Or if I need to tell you anything else?”

Lena chuckles. “Oh Kara, darling. Didn’t you look at the back of the card I gave you?” Kara shakes her head; she hadn’t. “That’s the _direct_ line to the Luthor House.” The way Lena’s voice drops on the word direct is not helpful to Kara’s concentration. “Call anytime and someone will make sure to let me know, if you don’t get me myself. Now,” she leans down, pressing a kiss to Kara’s cheek, “I do have to run.”

Kara can’t tear her eyes away from Lena as she leaves; she watches as a woman joins Lena, and they exchange a quiet conversation. She doesn’t get a good glimpse of this new woman, her face and body obscured by an outfit 30 years out of date. The best she can tell is the ridiculous pince-nez balancing on her nose. Why couldn’t this woman, who has Lena’s attention, be modern and wear sensible clothes?

(Despite how ridiculous she finds this new woman, Kara feels a surge of… something, at the easy way this woman touches Lena’s elbow, guiding her through the door and out of Kara’s sight.)

(Her eye then catches Alex, holding her mysterious woman in a close embrace, swaying slightly to noiseless music.)

Kara looks at the bottle and glass Lena left behind, shrugs, and pours herself a full glass.

(If her lips touch the small stain Lena’s one left; if that mere thought caused Kara’s stomach to swoop, well… that knowledge is Kara’s and Kara’s alone.)

* * *

By the time Kara returns home, Alex is already sitting at the table, lukewarm bowl of stew sitting in front of her. She’s changed into her nightgown; her dress is haphazardly folded over the back of a chair.

“How’s Jeremiah doing?”

Alex turns to stare at the bedroom door, eyes distant. “He’s… as usual.” Her voice has slipped from her affected accent (the accent that _both_ sisters affect; the one taken from the pictures, to cover up the way that English falls heavily from their lips, how it rolls unnaturally off of their tongues. It took only a beatdown or two for them to realize their new accent’s necessity). Alex swallows and clears her throat. “He’s as usual.”

(As usual. It’s a funny way to put it, but true. As usual means vacant stares, hands absentmindedly rubbing over the blue ink branded into his skin. _82751_. As usual means he’s minimally responsive. _As usual_ mean he’s not _screaming_.)

Kara doesn’t say anything; just wrapping her arms around Alex’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. Once she grabs her own bowl she sits across from Alex, giving a small smile.

“So—Who was that gal who you spent your time nearly necking with?”

When Alex splutters and glares at Kara, Kara smirks; job complete. “We—We were not necking! I was getting information from her!”

Kara waggles her eyebrows. “Oh? What kind of information gathering requires ya to be that close and intimate with her?”

Alex blushes. “The kind where I needed to know the colour of her eyes.”

“Alexandra Dancyger! You—You absolute scoundrel!”

“Don’t you start with me Kara Zoryll. Don’t think that I didn’t see ya cozying up with Lena Luthor, while I was… talking with Sam.”

Kara leans forward, with a predatory grin. “Oh? She’s called Sam?”

“Y-yeah. Samantha Arias. She asked me to call her Sam though.” Alex shakes her head. “Now wait just a minute: we were chatting about ya absolutely inability to not gawk at Ms Luthor when you’re in the same room as her.”

Kara shrugs. “Oh I’ll freely admit it; Lena Luthor is… Lena Luthor. I’ll only have this one chance to flirt a little with her. It ain’t like there’s ever gonna be anything real there.”

Alex raises a sceptical eyebrow. “I don’t know, from what I saw, I think it ain’t the khaloymes that ya think it is.”

It’s now Kara’s turn to blush. “Ya just imaginin’ things Alex. It… It ain’t like that. It’s just an innocent flirt.” Alex frowns, disbelievingly. “It’s true! And it’s not like anything could happen anyway. She’s Lena Luthor, I’m me and I think I’m working for her?”

“Oh quit ya kvetching Kara. Ya clearly underestimating yourself.”

Kara waves Alex off. “It’s… not--It doesn’t really matter. I gotta work on what she asked me to, and that’ll be that.”

Alex gives Kara a _look_ , one that speaks volumes about how Alex knows this is a deflection; that Alex will drop it only for Kara’s sake. “Okay ya nudnik. So, what'd ya got?”

Kara’s eyes light up as she launches into a summary of what Lena told her.

(Well most of it; Kara doesn’t feel comfortable talking about Lex, or why Lena thinks it was a case of murder. That felt… Lena gave Kara that information for _Kara_ , and no one else. And that kind of trust is… special.)

“So, where do you want to start?”

Kara shrugs, eating a spoonful of her now room-temperature stew. “I ain’t got a preference. While it’d be easier to meet up with Jess, I figure that’s a dead-end. If ya murdered someone ya don’t really know, ya don’t go to the funeral. She probably came along with one of the other guests; a wife or girlfriend or something.” She pauses, another spoonful. “My gut is telling me that Maxwell Lord is our best bet, since everyone knows he has enough shady shit to pitch the world into the dark. No one’s ever found real dirt on Wayne; and Governor Lane probably has better things to do then off his disgraced former opponent.”

Alex hums. “But Wayne was a more direct competitor than Lord. Remember that whole Greta Elton bangup between Wayne Pictures and Luthor Productions?”

Kara shudders; it was one of the first stories she worked on when she joined The National City Tribune. Specifically a dust-up between some Wayne Pictures security guards and Luthor Productions ones; both trying to offer Ms. Elton a contract before the other.

(She’s never seen a group of people sport more shiners at one time in her life.)

“But Lord Studios signed Greta Elton for 6 films, or somethin’ like that; also what’s it with these studio heads naming their company after themselves? Why not go for a classier name like, I don’t know, Paramount Pictures or something.”

“Big ego’s compensating for a schme--”

Kara scrunches her face up, interrupting Alex’s train of thought. “Never mind, forget I asked.”

“You asked. And circling back to the Governor, remember that Governor Lane was gonna lose to Luthor before his breakdown. Give it a few more years, and let people forget? Luthor might have actually won; that is, if he ever snapped out of it. If that’s not a motive for murder, then who knows what is.”

Kara groans, placing her head on the table. “So, back to the beginning. We got four leads. But all of them may be bunk, and we ain’t got a clue in high heaven where to start.”

“Well let’s work this from a different angle. We know we can access Jess pretty much whenever we want. She probably also got access to the relevant files. I can probably swing tickets to an event at the Governor’s Mansion, but I don’t know when the next one is. And we gotta come up with a plan for how we’re gonna see Wayne and Lord.”

Kara nods. “Okay, so I guess we just gonna see which one of the three we can’t just call on anytime we can see first; if anything’s time sensitive, ya know.”

Alex smiles; a real, genuine, bright smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

* * *

As it turns out, Mr. Wayne requests their presence before they can even come up with a specific plan. Well, rather, Snapper sends Kara along to interview him, just by luck of being the only reporter around when Mr. Wayne’s assistant so gracefully informed the Tribune that Mr. Wayne is looking to be interviewed. But the first version is simply more dramatic, according to Kara’s writing sensibilities.

So, Mr. Wayne sends for Kara, and Kara, ever willing to not look a gift horse in the mouth, is ready to seize the opportunity by the horns. Its… horse horns in the mouth. Look, the metaphor ran away from Kara but the concept is clear; she’s going to go, interview Mr. Wayne and subtly suss out whether or not he had any particular reason to kill Lex Luthor.

And so, Kara, at noon, finds herself on the set of Mr. Wayne’s latest blockbuster film: Paradise on Broadway, being led by a smiling assistant (who introduces herself brightly as Babs) to an office that overlooks the main set. As she’s shuffled in, she gets her first glimpse of Bruce Wayne.

He’s a large fellow, broad shouldered; obviously tall, from the way that he’s bent over his desk, scribbling on a notepad in front of him. When Babs clears her throat, he looks up briefly, a quick and easy smile on his face. 

When he speaks, his voice is far gentler than Kara would have imagined. “Ah, thank you Ms. Gordon. And it’s a pleasure to meet you Ms.--?” He holds out a hand, which Kara takes briefly for an unsurprisingly firm shake.

“Danvers. Kara Danvers, National City Tribune.”

“Yes, the Tribune Reporter. Would you like anything? Tea, coffee? Something a little more… fun?” He gives her a small wink.

Kara shakes her head, incapable of suppressing her smile. “No thank you, Mr. Wayne.”

He nods at Babs, before turning his back to look out the windows in the back of his office; solid glass, looking over some part of the set that Kara has yet to see. “Thank you again, Ms. Gordon, and that’ll be all.” Kara hears the door close behind her, even as she catches Mr. Wayne’s eye as he peeks over his shoulder.

“Would you like to come and see everyone hard at work, Ms. Danvers?” He flashes Kara a toothy grin, beckoning her over. 

She nods, her hand reaching up to adjust the elbow of her glasses. “Oh! I--Sure Mr. Wayne!” As she joins him by the window, she looks down and the sight that lay below them… is enough to convince Kara that she’s about three quarters of the way to a heart attack. For below them is a gorgeous pool, lots of gently curved stones and soft grasses giving the illusion of a natural environment. But far more pressingly, are the tens of bodies lounging around the pool. Specifically, tens of half-naked bodies, each in a two piece that Kara swears is only a handful of scraps of fabric; she’s unsure how these women even remain clothed.

(And if her body suddenly suffers an intense and immediate heat wave upon wondering what _Lena_ would look like, in a daringly low (and high) cut two piece, the fabric barely extending below her breasts, her navel showing, the flare of her hips on display before being tantalizingly covered by cloth that doesn’t even make it half way down her thighs… Kara doesn’t think anyone has to know.)

When she finally reasserts her own state of mind, (after what seems to be an embarrassingly long time) Kara glances over at Mr. Wayne, and notices he has the same toothy grin, seemingly unmoved at the sight in front of him. 

(A fact which frankly supports the rumours of him being queerer than a two dollar bill.)

(Not that Kara’s open mouthed stare is doing much to dispel any similar beliefs one might have about her.)

Mr. Wayne draws Kara out of her reverie, with a simple nod and gesture. “Do you see those two over there?” He points at two women, a redhead and a blonde, who are floating lazily in the pool.

“I do.”

He turns his back to the display, sitting down behind his desk and gesturing the chair opposite. “They’re going to be big stars one day.”

Kara sits across from him; apparently the interview has begun. “Is that why ya asked for an interview, Mr. Wayne? To let us know all about these new and upcoming stars?”

He chuckles. “If only. Sadly, intuition about potential future film stars aren’t newsworthy. What is, however, newsworthy, are the three films they’ll both be starring in.”

“Making your own A-Listers?”

He shrugs. “They’ll be A-Listers any way; I’d just like to make sure they’re working for me when they do.”

“Must be easier for ya to do, what with Luthor Productions basically shuttered.”

Mr. Wayne’s smile slips a little, a hint of a frown coming through. “While I could discuss this in purely business terms, Ms. Danvers, the circumstances behind Luthor Productions’ downturn are tragic, and it would crass to speak of it as some kind of great victory for my company.”

Kara raises her hands, placatingly. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to cause any offence Mr. Wayne. But, if it were Lord Studios on the downturn, due to no… tragic circumstances, it would be a great boon to Wayne Pictures.”

His face settles somewhat, more neutrally. “I don’t wish for a monopoly, Ms. Danvers. While, yes, I want to produce the best pictures with the best talent, I do it simply because I love good films. I have for most of my life. Nor do I want to presume that good films happen spontaneously in this world, without capital on the part of someone. As someone who is, to put it mildly, very rich, it might as well be me.”

“But if it ain’t about anything but great pictures, what was up with that bang-up over Greta Elton?”

Mr. Wayne grimaces. “That… was an unfortunate incident.”

“And completely avoidable.”

“Yes, well…” Mr. Wayne sighs. “After it happened I had to review every security person I had ever hired and fired any deemed unfit. I will not deny that I wanted Ms. Elton to star in a film, in fact this very film, but she was correct to sign on with Lord Studio’s; I would urge anyone to do the same after… that.”

Kara nods. “Sorry for that little diversion. Now, you mentioned somethin’ about three upcoming movies starring those two gals out there?”

Mr. Wayne’s face returns to its smile. “I’m hoping to make them the biggest pictures yet; a three part epic called: Western Babylon.” From there, he continues to speak, Kara noting down his words automatically. But her mind…

Mr. Wayne didn’t _feel_ guilty. Compassion rolled off of him when he called Lex’s death tragic; anger toward his security’s violence; genuineness of his view that he simply loves film. Kara admits the possibility of him simply being an excellent actor, but it still doesn’t mean she thinks there’s an angle here. If she was to follow that lead, she’d merely be shooting in the dark. No, she decides it’s better to take a different path.

So, when she’s back at the Tribune office, typing up the 500 words for Snapper, she makes plans for a house call.

* * *

When Kara calls the number Lena left her, sadly it is neither Lena nor Jess who picks up. Instead a woman whose name Kara does not manage to catch, but sounds something like Lana or Laney, tells Kara that everyone on the staff has instructions to slot in a visit from Kara Danvers at the earliest convenience. And so, on a Friday morning, three whole days after Lena first walked into her life, Kara finds herself standing outside the Luthor House, waiting to be escorted… _somewhere_.

So when a woman, black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, Kara is bouncing on her heels.

“Hi, I’m Kara Danvers! I’m supposed to meet with either Ms. Luthor or Jess? I think? It wasn’t very clear; maybe I’m just supposed to meet with anyone but it’s one of those two I can here to talk to.” Kara’s energy rapidly dissipates as the woman stares at her blankly. “Were you expecting me?”

The woman nods. “Yes. Ms. Luthor made it clear that I am to speak with you and then show you to her parlor where you two can… discuss business.”

“So you’re Jess? It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Kara sticks out her hand in greeting.

Jess just stares at it and steps to one side, not taking it. “And you’re… Ms. Luthor owes me a raise.”

Kara cocks her head to one side, but simply follows behind as Jess starts leading her down the serpentine halls of the Luthor House; making half a dozen seemingly arbitrary turns before entering a small room. A fire crackles in the fireplace and a pot of tea, still hot, resting on a table. Two china cups sit next to it.

Two plush chairs are pushed up next to the fireplace and Jess sits in one; Kara follows suit, fingers nervously playing with the waist of her trousers as Jess remains silent, pouring tea into both cups. After it brews for a few minutes, Jess takes one into her hands, sipping at it slowly. Kara remains empty handed.

It is only after Jess has finished drinking her tea that she waves her hand and begins to speak. “I know I am supposed to speak with you, but Ms. Luthor didn’t tell me what, exactly, I am to speak with you about. So, Ms. Danvers, it is up to you to move this conversation forward.”

Kara blushes, her hand reaching up for the familiar comfort of adjusting her glasses. “Oh, well. I just really have one question for ya, and then depending on ya answer maybe some more? It could go either way at this point really.”

Jess shoots Kara and unamused look. “If you would just get to the point Ms. Danvers.”

“R-right. Well, so you remember who you talked to at Mr. Luthor’s funeral?”

Jess laughs. “Is that what the National City Tribune wants to know? What next, you going to cause a war by making one up?”

Kara’s flush deepens. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. I’m just looking for someone who was supposed to be there, but I don’t know her name and ya were the only person I know who chatted with her?”

“Is that a question or statement?”

And Kara’s fingers tug on her glasses once again. “A little of both? Ms. Luthor mentioned you talked to a woman at the funeral who she didn’t recognize; and she was the only person Ms. Luthor didn’t recognize. Do you remember that at all?”

Jess nods. “Yeah, I remember that; introduced herself as Diana Prince. She said she never met Mr. Luthor, just was brought along as a guest. Now that I think about it, she never did say whose guest.” Jess shrugs. “That was about it.”

Kara tries to keep her face schooled straight, even as she feels her heart sink within her chest. Yet another almost useless lead. There could be something there, but it matches her initial thoughts too closely. This Diana Prince, whoever she may be, just happened to be at the funeral. And tracking her down seems like a near impossibility. “Well thanks Jess. Now…” Kara swallows, a rush of nerves fluttering in her stomach, “what was this about meeting Ms. Luthor in her parlor?”

* * *

Lena’s parlor is much larger than where Kara and Jess had their brief chat. Much more comfortable as well; several couches and chairs scattered around and it’s once she’s been escorted into the room that Jess asks Kara if she wants anything.

(Kara wishes she could ask for a glass of gin or brandy; to settle the twitch in her hands that she’s spontaneously developed. But no, she doesn’t.)

Kara’s eyes wander the rest of the parlor; high ceilings sprinkled with chandeliers. Three fireplaces dot the sides of the room, and a bar, stocked to the brim with all sorts of alcohols; some that Kara has not even heard of.

What sticks out most, however, is their relative disuse; a closer examination, Kara can see thick layers of dust have accumulated on the chandeliers; only two are even lighted. And the pokers next to the fireplaces looked old; yet only one had soot on it. The only thing that looked regularly used is the bar; given the half empty state of most of the bottles.

“Ah Kara!” Lena’s voice causes Kara to start slightly, head swivelling to face the direction the Lena’s voice comes from; she’s standing in a doorway, her hair pulled up into a bun and wearing a floral dress that barely reaches her knees. She’s holding a half folded slip in her hands.

(Kara should definitely have asked for a drink.)

“I’m sorry for this but would mind if we move this conversation to my room? The Governor has asked me to give a performance at his next gathering… well it’s more like a party, and I need to finish packing before I leave on my train tomorrow.“

(And _shit_ Lena’s voice is too low, too sultry and smokey for the words she’s actually saying.)

Kara, not trusting her voice (a seemingly recurring theme around Lena Luthor) simply nods.

As Kara follows behind Lena, eyes firmly planted on her bun, trying desperately to keep them from wandering lower. Lena chats congenially while leading them through a short hallway, as if unaware of Kara’s dilemma.

(But Lena has to be, right? Just looking like that, talking like that. She has to know that Kara is hopeless against her.)

“So, it’s not as if I don’t trust you to finish this investigation, but the Governor is one of your leads and it’s difficult to get around him; he doesn’t speak to papers like the Tribune. He clearly wants to be President one day, and that means talking to only… ‘worthy’ outlets. But I can get you an invitation, if you’d like.” Lena punctuates her statement with opening a door, and steps through; it is clearly Lena’s bedroom.

(As if Kara could look at anything but the bed; suitcases opened on it. Could do anything but wonder how the carefully made sheets pile looks rumpled up after a night of sleep. Or how there are four pillows, and whether that means that the bed often sees two bodies at the same moment.)

Noticing her own silence, Kara straightens up and looks Lena in the eye. “Y-yeah, thank ya very much. It would be very nice.”

“Oh good! Now, I have to finish the last of my packing; I just have my intimates left. You wouldn’t mind if I finish?” And Kara swears a smirk is hiding in Lena’s lips. “After all, it’s nothing we both haven’t seen before, no?”

“I-it’s no problem, Ms. Luthor.”

Lena shakes her head and tuts, as she begins to rifle through an opened drawer. “This no longer has to do with the case, so it’s Lena. I just want your opinion on something.” She pauses her search to grasp something in the drawer. “I’m something of a connoisseur of fineries, especially fineries of the fairer sex. Par exemple--” She pulls out a white waistlette and garter set; the hemline, however, seems a tad too high. It would show off a perfectly sinful amount of leg.

(Or, if Lena is wearing it, not enough leg for Kara’s taste, perhaps.)

“What do you think?” Kara has a sneaking suspicion, based off of Lena’s smirk, that she knows _exactly_ what Kara thinks. “I was thinking of wearing it on the train ride over.”

Kara feels as if her face is about to burst into flames. “I’m not sure what use that would have on the train.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, taking a step closer to Kara, holding the waistlette close to her chest. “Really?”

Kara shakes her head. “I can’t imagine what ya’d need it for. Isn’t it a little… extravagant for a simple train journey?”

Lena takes another step forward, and Kara didn’t realize Lena was only a step away but she must have been because suddenly the waistlette is pressed between the two, and Lena’s breath is brushing against Kara’s lips. Kara can’t help but shiver. Lena’s voice is low; Kara swears she can feel it vibrate against her chest. “I can think of many… extravagant uses.”

But as quickly as Lena was in front of her, she steps away, a small, shy smile on her lips, as she moves to her bed. “So do you have any updates on the investigation? I read that story you wrote about Bruce Wayne.” Lena bends over, tucking the waistlette away.

Kara averts her eyes for a split second, unable to resist any longer, weak soul she is. “Oh, yes! So far it seems like we won’t get anywhere with Mr. Wayne and our mystery woman; Jess told me her name is Diana Prince, but I have no idea how I’d find her.” Lena’s spine stiffens momentarily as Kara says the name, but it’s relaxed the next.

(Kara files that reaction away. It feels… important, somehow.)

“I can have people look for her, but it’s unlikely we’ll find the right one. And Mr. Wayne?”

Kara shrugs, despite Lena’s back still being turned to her, hands fiddling with the suitcase. “I can’t find any reason for him to have wanted to off Mr. Luthor.”

Lena, finally finished with whatever infernal task caused her to be bent over for so long, straightens and gives Kara a small smile. “Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Kara pauses, pondering for a moment before her lips slowly turn into a large grin. “Can you get one more person into the Governor’s party?”

* * *

Alex whistles. “Ya know, Kara, I thought you were tryin’ shut me out of the investigation, what with meeting Bruce Wayne and tracking down Jess without even thinking of makin’ a mention to me about it, but if this…” She waves her hand at the train compartment, “is what you doing this on your own means, then well…. investigate away.”

Kara is equally impressed by the accommodations that Lena has granted them. It’s hard not to be when your train compartment isn’t just two beds stacked on top of one another, a curtain separating them, but actual beds, a dining car, people willing to bring you drinks whenever you want. And sure the cost of such luxury is that it’s slow moving (a normally three hour trip has been extended to a nine hour trip that will last overnight; three stops along the way to let on and off other passengers), but Kara _knows_ that the cost is worth it.

Both Alex and Kara have separate compartments; each with a double bed, high enough off the ground to fit their suitcases, a small writing desk and a drawer. Why anyone would need any of these items (beyond the bed) on a nine hour train ride is beyond Kara, but they’re there and Kara dutifully stows her suitcase under the bed.

There’s a knock on the frame of the open door, and a very unhelpful “Knock, knock.”

(That only causes Kara to smile harder when she looks up.)

Lena’s standing at her doorway, returning Kara’s large smile softly. She’s wearing her hair up, a simple chain trailing down her neck and upper chest to settle just above her heart; what looks like a sapphire sits as the centerpiece. Below that, she’s wearing a blue dress, a few shades darker than the sapphire, that is cut modestly and yet follows the shape of Lena’s body tightly. “I hope the accommodations are to your taste.”

“T-to my taste Lena? This is amazing!” Kara draws Lena in a hug who, after a stiffening for a moment, returns it, before stepping back.

(Kara realizes that this is the first time she’s ever touched Lena; at least touched Lena in a way that’s not charged. Kara decides that she likes it as much as the other touches, in a familiar, comfortable way.)

(It doesn’t hurt that it means Lena’s body, all pleasant warmth and curves, is pressed up against Kara’s body.)

Alex clears her throat; Lena takes a step back from Kara. Her smile tightens. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had company. This must be your… _partner_ in investigation?” Kara frowns at how Lena stresses the word partner, unsure what to make of it.

Alex, for her part, shrugs. “Yup. That’s me. Alex Danvers, Kara’s sister, at ya service.”

And like that, the tension from Lena’s jaw disappears, and she reaches out a hand; Alex shakes it briefly before pulling away. “Well lovely to meet you Ms. Danvers.” Lena turns back to Kara. “I was just coming here to check in; see if you needed anything.” Kara rapidly shakes her head no, causing Lena to chuckle. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m in the room to your right; that is, your right when you step out of your compartment. Compartment 8. Dinner is set to begin in an hour; shortly after we’ve stopped in Star City. I’ll meet the both of you down in the dining car?”

Kara answers loudly before Alex can even react. “Of course! We’ll see ya in about an hour Lena!”

After Lena’s left, closing the door behind her, Alex sighs. “Oy gevalt that… was painful.”

“What d’ya mean Alex?” Alex rolls her eyes and exits, leaving Kara to stare at the closed door, loudly exclaiming, “What d’ya mean Alex? Alex?”

An hour later finds Kara and Alex standing at the entrance to the dining car, having a quick look around the nice white tablecloths, the silver candlesticks sitting at the center of each table, and a paper menu in front of each seat.

In a corner, Kara spies a… surprisingly familiar face. She nudges Alex. “What’s she doing here?” Alex turns her head to look in the direction where Kara’s nodding toward; a woman in a tailored suit. Alex opens her mouth to answer, frowns, opens it again, and yet still no words come out.

It’s Lena, who’s stepping next to Kara and hooking their arms together, who answers the question.

(And Kara is suddenly very very aware of how soft Lena’s dress feels; even through the fabric of her own button up.)

“Samantha Arias? She’s a secretary for Maxwell Lord, who I suspect is already at the Governor’s Mansion, snivelling sycophant that he is. Why, do you know her?”

Kara smiles, a mischievous tilt to her lips. “Alex here seemed… quite infatuated with her the other day; at least from what I saw in that nightclub.” Both Lena and Kara ignore Alex’s spluttered denials.

Lena laughs, a throaty chuckle that definitely does not make Kara’s entire body vibrate with some kind of liquid heat. “Oh, she is a regular there; comes in once a week, as far as I know. Which is a bit of a surprise, honestly. The rest of the week, she seems so focused on her daughter, I would never have suspected that she would have time for anything else.”

“Oh, she’s got a kid?” Kara nudges Alex with her shoulder. “Well, this Sam definitely is a keeper.” Alex mumbles incoherently under her breath. “And wait…” Kara turns back to Lena. “She’s a secretary for Maxwell Lord?” Lena nods. “Do ya know if she likes the guy?”

Lena laughs again, this time a short bark. “I don’t think anyone is fond of Maxwell Lord in the least; let alone anyone who actually has to deal with him on a day to day basis.”

“So… if we maybe invite her to dinner…”

Lena picks up where Kara left off. “We could maybe convince her to let us look at some of Mr. Lord’s… more personal belongings and items.”

Kara turns to Alex, who’s just been quietly shaking her head and staring in the general direction of Sam. “Alex!”

Alex jumps. “What? I-I was paying attention and not thinking about going over there to see if Sam’d like a drink. Of course not.”

“Well ya’d better rethink the fact that ya ain’t thinking about going over there.”

* * *

It took five painfully long minutes to convince Alex that, no, it’s not awkward to go over and ask Sam to have dinner with them; after all, Sam also knows Lena. And even then, Kara overhears Alex repeatedly muttering “Oy vey, oy vey, oy vey” under her breath.

Kara takes a moment, then, to stop Alex and whisper into her ear. “Don’t let a sheyne meydel mess ya up. She got bupkis on you.” Alex’s shoulders relax, just a smidge, and Kara gives her hand a gentle squeeze.

(Kara knows Alex always loves when Kara drops her affected accent; uses a phrase or two that Eliza does. Yet… Kara can’t turn it on or off like Alex can; she can’t drop Yiddish in a conversation in their apartment and then step outside and suddenly not.)

(She still wonders, sometimes, if it would be worth it to see Alex smile more often.)

Fortunately, only Kara would be able to tell the absolute mess Alex is; her sister is nothing but implacable.

“Samaaaantha! Hi! It’s Alex… Alexandra. We met? Ya were wearing a very very very nice… shirt?”

Or… not. Kara steps forward to salvage the situation. “Sorry for my sister’s… lack of…” Kara trails off, realizing that she too is lost, and looks to Lena, hoping she’d supply the word.

Lena’s not even bothering to conceal her amusement. “Etiquette. But we spied you and, well, considering that you are the only person we know here, we were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner. Now with that out of the way, how are you Sam? It’s been a while. And how is Ruby?”

Sam’s watching the whole exchange with a look of faint amusement, laughter barely hidden in your voice. “Well to answer in order, yes, I do remember you Alex it was hardly two days ago, and yes, I’d love some company for dinner, and I’m doing fine, and Ruby’s just hitting her teenage years. I had to leave her with Jack; well, you know how she gets when she’s bored. Now, since it’s my turn, how are you Lena? And same to you, Alex. And you,” she gestures to Kara, “I have never met but I’m very pleased to meet you; Samantha Arias, but I much prefer Sam.” She holds her hand out to shake; Kara takes it.

“Kara Danvers. Nice to meetcha too Sam.”

Sam gestures to the other seats at the table. “Please, sit. Someone ought to be here soon with my drink, and then we can see what’s for dinner.”

The three standing make small murmurs of assent and sit down; Alex somehow ends up on Sam’s side, pressed _very_ close together, while Kara and Lena end up on the other end of the table; Kara across from Alex and Lena from Sam.

(Kara’s seat just so happens to be angled perfectly to see Lena’s cleavage; though she has no idea if that’s her faults or Lena’s; she’s not keen on changing this fact, however, anytime soon.)

Once everyone is settled, San turns to Lena, a certain softness in her eyes. “How are you doing, Lena? I haven’t seen you since…” The end of that sentence hangs heavily over the air.

Lena shrugs. “I’m surviving; especially with the help of these two.” She gestures at Alex and Kara.

Sam turns to Alex, smile growing into something much more interested. “Is that so? And how do you know Lena?”

Alex flushes. “Well, we only met recently, so I wouldn’t say we really know each other, ya know?”

Lena smiles at Alex. “Now don’t be so modest.” She turns her attention to Sam. “We met at the Children’s Gala; the one that you had to miss because of some demand that pompous ass you call a boss gave you. Anyway, it’s a cause near and dear to Alex’s here’s heart.”

Sam’s smile grows. “Is that so? Well that’s a cause near and dear to my heart. What _do_ you do then?”

“Oh, I, I-I’m a Private Dick—I mean Private Investigator, and ya know how… sometimes we gotta case a—a place out for security reasons, make sure that n—no crooks or creeps get in.” Alex takes a breath before her eyes go wide. “N-not that! Not that children aren’t important to me—I mean I care a lot about children; they’re our future in a tiny container, ya know. And—“

Kara almost lays her head on the table and groans at the painful display, as Alex continues to ramble out some long winded explanation. Lena’s smirk only intensifies the feeling. But then Kara takes a glance at Sam. And Sam’s face can only be described as endeared.

A protective flare surges up in Kara’s chest, marched only by her hope that this… this goes well for her sister. Alex deserves the best.

And thankfully, for Alex’s sake, they’re saved by a waiter bringing Sam’s drink, and dinner can be ordered.

* * *

Dinner is almost nice; if not for the fact that Alex and Sam’s… flirting lasts throughout it all.

(If Alex’s stuttered answers to every one of Sam’s questions, and Lena’s constant interjections to talk up Alex’s accomplishments, counts as flirting. _”I once saw Alex pick up three people, no problem.”_ )

(Kara would almost despair if Sam didn't seem so... interested.)

Or the fact that Lena’s hand was on Kara’s leg the entire meal; just casually placed there, unmoving.

So when Lena excuses Kara and herself, letting Alex and Sam have some private time over drinks, Kara is immensely relieved; even though she doesn’t know if they succeeded in their initial goal of convincing Sam to let them look at Maxwell Lord’s… stuff.

And therefore it is really easy to ignore Alex’s pleading look and agree with Lena; heading back to her room without much of a second thought.

(Oh, okay, maybe Kara does spare Alex a second and third thought, but really; she just needs some space to calm herself down.)

So it’s after half an hour that Kara decides to shrug off her suspenders, letting them dangle to the side, and quickly unbutton her top, tossing it to one side. She’s left sitting in just her trousers and a white undershirt.

Just outside the room, she hears footsteps. Kara can’t help but focus in on them; as they get closer and closer to her room. Her heart beats in pace with them; both her heart and the footsteps stop for a moment; just outside her room. And then the shuffling of a slip of paper being pushed underneath her door; and the footsteps retreat.

Kara picks up the sheet of paper, turns it over to see a message, written in a neat scrawl.

_Kara,_

_Please meet with me posthaste._

_Lena_

And Kara sighs; in relief and in exasperation: Lena could have just knocked. Without giving it much thought, she exits her room and takes her few paces necessary to Lena’s door.

As soon as her fist raps on the door, she hears Lena’s voice, announcing an “Enter!”

When Kara opens the door she freezes: Lena is sitting on a chair, facing the door; her legs are crossed at the knee and she’s reading some paper in her lap. But that’s not the important part. The important part is what she’s _wearing_.

Lena’s wearing a black negligee, over a slip which pushes her breasts upward into… quite a bit of cleavage. But as importantly, she’s _wearing glasses_ , and Kara’s mind breaks a little.

She holds up her finger when Kara opens the door, and after a moment, puts the paper on the desk behind her and stands, smiling sweetly. When she finally looks at Kara, her eyes wander up and down her body, lingering on her exposed arms. Kara suddenly feels quite underdressed. “Why, Kara; you’re here quite late. What would your sister say?”

Kara swallows nervously, her eyes glancing down at Lena’s pink lips; her defined jaw and collarbone; the top of her cleavage, so expertly held up. “W-Well ya did send for me, Ms—Lena.”

Lena smirks; it’s downright predatory. “Ms. Lena, am I now? I think I like the sound of that.”

Kara blushes, but she ignores the sultry tone to Lena’s voice. “So what did ya want me for?” Lena’s continued smirk causes Kara to hastily reconsider her words. “I-I mean, what did ya want to talk to me about?”

“Well, I was going to let you know that the Governor’s two daughters, Lois and Lucy Lane, are a wonderful place to start your investigation when we get there, but now…” Lena shrugs and stands. “I want to know something. Who makes you, Kara Danvers, weak in the knees?”

Considering the sudden difficulty that Kara is currently experience with remaining upright, Kara believes the answer is obvious. And yet… “W-what do ya mean?”

“Well,” Lena steps into Kara’s personal space, once again, “I just happen to have a weakness for reporters; with the ink stains on their wrists, sharp minds and even sharper questions. Glasses perched on their nose,” Lena reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind Kara’s ear, finger tracing the curve of Kara’s glasses. “The way those suspenders _accentuate_ the body’s natural shape.” Kara’s breath catches in her throat as Lena runs a finger up Kara’s side, where her suspenders would be, if they were not shrugged off to her sides. “The way she can smile and make everything feel calm.” Lena slowly leans back, but her body remains close to Kara’s. “So, let me ask again, what kind of person makes Kara Danvers weak in the knees?”

Kara shrugs, her voice gripped tightly in her throat by her rapidly beating heart.

Lena chuckles, as if she’s amused by Kara’s speechlessness. “Cat got your tongue? Or is somehow my favourite reporter” and if Lena isn’t purring those words, then Kara doesn’t even know what a purr is, “unable to find her words?” And that… that is definitely a challenge, and a thrill shoots down Kara’s spine.

The adrenaline, then, somehow stabilizes Kara’s voice; not just allowing her to speak, but speak _confidently_. “Well flirty actresses who like to act all mysterious and all that—I love treatin’ them just right.”

She brings her hand to Lena’s cheek, cupping it, and stares into her eyes. They remain like that for a few moments, the air crackling with tension and the space between them slowly closing.

Lena blinks first, taking a step back, her cheeks pink and eyes dilated. When she speaks, there’s a tremor in her voice. “Why, Ms. Danvers. If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you had someone in mind.”

Kara exhales, the tension in her body draining with the distance. “Maybe I did.”

Lena hums, and walks to a drawer Kara previously missed.

(To be honest, there is a lot in the room that Kara has missed.)

She pulls out a bottle of… something.

“Would you like a glass of bourbon or three?”

(Kara ends up having more than three.)

The beginning of their drinking is done in relative silence; they’re sitting on opposite ends of the bed, taking small, furtive glances at each other.

After a single glass, however, Kara finds herself shifting closer to Lena, her lips opening. “Ya know, I hear that ya were adopted; just like me.” Lena raises an eyebrow, prompting Kara to continue. “Yeah, I was… It… I’m not from the United States; wasn’t born here.”

(Kara can hear her accent slipping, and she tries to put it in its place.)

“Neither was Alex or the any of the Danvers; the Dancygers. But… we left; I left with Eliza and Alex in… ‘35. Mame and tate stayed with Jeremiah and mume Astra and bubbe. A-And…” Kara trails off. “The Dancygers are my family in every way that matters. Alex is my sv-- _sister_ in every way that matters. But…”

Lena reaches over and pours Kara another drink, which she drains quickly.

Lena begins to speak. “Not a lot of people know, but I’m Lionel’s bastard daughter. He was constitutionally incapable of keeping it in his pants. Took some business trip to Ireland, fucked some woman, got her knocked up and 9 months later, here I am. Tiny baby Lena, or whatever name my birth mother gave me. Then she had the ill manners to die when I was four, Lionel took me in and there; I had a family. One which barely tolerated me, but a family. And then…” She finishes off her glass. “One day, I got stuck in a pantry cupboard; I had reached in to steal a snack, away from Lillian’s prying eyes. Unfortunately I was so small at the time that I had to get in and, after me…” She claps her hands together. “Clack! I was trapped.

“So I did what any four year old in her right mind would do in such a situation; I started bawling my eyes out. Oh, sure, I tried to keep quiet, hope no one noticed. But it was so dreadfully dark and enclosed; I couldn’t--” She shakes her head. “Anyway, after what felt like an eternity, but almost certainly no more than ten minutes, the door opens. And there’s Lex, on the other side, holding his hand out to me. He… he pulled me out and said 'Little bird, if you’re ever trapped, I will be there to help you fly again.’” Lena giggles mirthlessly. “Or at least that’s what I remember him saying. And memory… is such a tricky thing.”

Lena pours herself and Kara yet another glass. “Family, Kara Danvers, is what we make of it. And that’s that.”

Kara stares at Lena for a moment, her mind softening against this woman, the alcohol causing her tongue to be heavy with words unspoken. “L-Lena Luthor. Ya should consider becoming an actress. Y-ya are too… too… too amazing! Too amazing. And you speak real pretty, even when ya drunk.”

Lena laughs and laughs and Kara joins in and soon the heaviness of the moment is behind them.

It is after six drinks that Kara tries to finally leave. “I-I think, it’s time for me to--to head to my bed. Ya know? Get some sleepering done.”

Lena chuckles. “Darling, I don’t think sleepering is a word.”

Kara pouts. “It--It’s a word if I use it like a word. I do words for a living!” She nods with conviction. “So I know how words are done.” Fueled by her victory, she pushes herself to stand. Unfortunately, at that exact moment the train jolts a little; an unevenness in the track. So Kara ends up stumbling back onto the bed.

“Darling, If you’re swaying this much from just a little bump, you’ll get yourself killed on your way back to your room. Stay. There’s plenty of space on the bed.” Kara nods, tacitly agreeing.

(Neither of them mention how their rooms are practically touching; neither of them mention how Kara lays in the bed, curled up next to Lena; neither of them mention how Kara shucks off her trousers, leaving her barelegged under the blanket; neither of them mention how Lena pushes herself between Kara’s arms and Kara wraps them around Lena’s stomach; neither mention how their legs tangle easily, settling comfortable along each other. Neither of them make much mention of anything until both of their breathings have evened out and they’re both fast asleep.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come yell at me on my [my Tumblr!](https://alienbeegenders.tumblr.com) Or comment! Or kudos! I love it when you guys do that! It makes my day!
> 
> If you want to. I'm not anyone with any power over you.
> 
> Yiddish translations:
> 
> khaloymes: dreams (especially of a fanciful variety)
> 
> sheyne meydel: pretty girl


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Governor's Party. That's the entire chapter, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL here's the very long Governor's Party.
> 
> Also, I was supposed to have almost finished Chapter 3 by now but last weekend I came down with the flu (or a really bad cold but some kind of illness that knocks me out) and the week was me playing catch up so now I don't know when Chapter 3 will come out but probably not next week. Sorry about that.
> 
> This chapter has far more of most things that I promised in the first chapter; wardrobe porn, Alex Danvers being lesbian bait, etc.

Kara wakes up with a pounding head; her mouth dried out and her bladder’s complaint in direct competition with the warmth of the blanket she’s under. She, very reluctantly, opens her eyes, and is rewarded to a sight.

Lena, for her part, is already awake, affixing her earrings. She’s wearing a red dress, delicate floral patterns done in a sheer lace covering her shoulders, which ends just below the knees. Kara can’t help but look down, noticing that, at least, Lena’s still in her bare feet. It’s something comforting; at least Kara isn’t _that_ far behind Lena.

Despite the view, the light bothers her and Kara rolls over, attempting to get some shuteye; unfortunately, Lena picks up on the fact that Kara’s awake.

“Looks like someone had something of a rough night, darling.” Kara groans and Lena laughs. “I would let you sleep a little longer but the train will be reaching the station in about half an hour and well…” Kara can nearly hear the shrug Lena gives. “I promise I’ll treat you to coffee and breakfast once we’re there, however.”

With the mere mention of breakfast, Kara shoots up, her stomach making a low rumbling noise. She’s _starved_. Lena laughs again. “Well now I know that you won’t get out of bed for the pleasure of my company, but food is a different story.” Kara can’t find it in her to articulate a disagreement, so she settles for a disapproving grunt. When she stands, she catches Lena looking at her, fondness etched into her smile. After a moment she waves Kara away. “Go, get ready to be off this train; finally, really. I’ll meet you on the platform; well you, Alex and I have a sneaking suspicion that Sam will be there as well.”

Kara groans again; this time in despair of the thoughts Lena’s put in her head. Kara stumbles to the door, ready to make her escape, before Lena’s voice stops her, once again. “Oh, darling? Even though I’m quite the fan, you may wish to put your trousers back on before heading out.”

Heat shoots to Kara’s face as she dives back toward the bed, groping around for her trousers. Lena clears her throat: Kara turns, only to find that Lena’s holding them out to her, wide grin on her face. So Kara does the only thing she can; she hurriedly throws on the trousers and open the door and rushes back to her compartment, followed by the faint sound of Lena laughing.

* * *

Fortunately, the embarrassment has calmed down by the time that Kara has had a chance to freshen up and throw the few items she removed from her suitcase back in.

Unfortunately for Kara, when she knocks on Alex’s door in an attempt to inform her of Lena’s plan, the voice that calls “one moment” is _definitely_ not Alex’s. And her worst fears are confirmed when one Samantha Arias opens the door, half-dressed; her blouse not tucked into her skirt, and her jacket only half shrugged on.

(Okay, so perhaps _half-dressed_ is a bit of an exaggeration. But the display in front of her is entirely too undressed for someone who’s in Alex’s room, and yes that includes Alex herself.)

Sam decides to fill in Kara’s shocked silence. “Kara, right? Are you looking for Alex? She’s just run to the toilet; she’s got everything all packed up and ready to go. I’m just going to head back to my compartment and finish packing, if you’ll excuse me,” she squeezes past an unmoving Kara, “I’ll see you at the Governor’s Party, if not before.” She gives Kara a genuine smile before sauntering down the hallway, whistling to herself.

Kara gives herself a second to shudder once or twice before she pushes herself in Alex’s compartment, and sits herself on the bed. After a minute, Alex comes back in, fixing the hem of her trousers. She jumps, somewhat, when she spots Kara sitting on the bed.

“Oh, Kara! What’re ya doing here? Visiting little old me?”

Kara’s voice is monotone. “I had a very… interesting conversation with Sam. If you could call it that. Only a few moments ago. It was… enlightening.” With each word that Kara speaks, Alex’s face grows into one more and more of pure horror.

Alex spits out an “Oh drek!” before putting on her most casual face; it hardly fools Kara at all. “Hey Kara!” She forces a wave, as if she’s pretending the conversation had only just started. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t like I expecting ya, so I’m a bit out of sorts, ya know. I’ll hurry though. It’s not like we ain’t got things to do.” When Kara doesn’t respond, Alex sighs, stepping over and pressing a hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Kara, I didn’t mean for ya to see that. Or, uh, know about it. Or anything… about that.”

Kara takes a deep breath. “It’s… okay Alex. Ya are an adult, no matter what Eliza says, and that means if ya want to… do that with a willing lady, ya can go ahead, without ya sister judging.”

Alex doesn’t say anything and her face appears to be permanently flushed; the awkward silence broken only by the whistle of the train. With that Alex springs into action, wrapping her arms around Kara’s neck in a hug. “Well thank ya, Kara… I guess. I’d never want to… if ya were ever disappointed in me, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Kara shakes her head. “I ain’t disappointed in ya.” Kara smiles a little, lost in a memory. “I wasn’t disappointed when ya ran away from home and lived under that bridge for a few days just because I accidentally took the last of Eliza’s matzoh balls; and if that ain’t gonna disappoint me, then of course this ain’t.”

Alex rests her head on Kara’s shoulders, laughing to herself. “So ya don’t think I’m some kinda loose woman?”

Kara snorts. “I mean, of course ya are. But so am I, or did ya never wonder what Susan and I got up to when I'd be out for the night?” Alex fakes a wretch and Kara laughs and laughs and Alex joins in and it’s… nice.

(Even so, Kara keeps the fact that she shared a bed with Lena to herself.)

(She’s not exactly sure why.)

* * *

In the end of the day (even though it’s not even noon), Sam does join Kara, Alex and Lena for breakfast. Or… well, brunch considering that by the time that they’ve managed to sort out their luggage and arrangements (another lavish setting at Lena’s expense, despite Kara’s objection), it’s close enough to noon to be considered brunch. At least, Kara thinks so; she’s not exactly sure how that works exactly. It feels like 11:30 is late enough to be brunch, but it also could simply be a late breakfast.

This is, in essence, to say that Sam and Lena shouldn’t be as shocked as they seem to be over the fact that Kara’s plate is piled high with bacon, sausage, eggs, toast and grilled mushrooms.

(Alex, of course, is very familiar with Kara’s eating habits. And may sometimes encourage it; if nothing else, her smile when Kara has too much food stuffed in her mouth, her cheeks puffing like a chipmunk, makes Kara want to do it again and again.)

Lena presses a hand on Kara’s shoulder. “Darling, you know there will be more food later.”

Kara grins and swallows; she does have table manners.

(At least in front of a woman that she wants to impress and maybe is starting to have feelings for, even if she would never admit it herself.)

“And I’ll be sure to have the food then. After all, as my bubbe uses to say,” she raises the pitch of her voice, adding a tremor in an admittedly weak approximation of her bubbe’s voice, “Ess! Ess! Es ez gut far ir!” She begins laughing, before looking up; Alex’s eyes are wide, while Lena’s and Sam’s are flirting across Kara’s face, as if trying to parse what she said. And as Kara realizes what she said, her smile shrivels and dies on her lips, her voice going flat. “Oh… I mean, ‘eat, eat, it’s good for ya.’” With that she puts down her fork and knife, and stands. “Actually, I’m not feeling that well. I’m going to go to…” without finishing her sentence, she stumbles in the general direction of the bathroom.

(Half of her plate remains untouched.)

As soon as Kara manages to find herself in the bathroom, she rushes to the sink, splashing cold water on her face; some droplets spill on her top. How long has she been wearing this top now? A day? Two? She can’t quite remember but… but…

She hears the door opening behind her; her eyes are still closed but she can feel it’s Alex. It’s always Alex. “What the _fuck_ am I doing there? Searching dead ends because a pretty fucking face asked me to reaffirm what we all know? I’m not a fucking PI anymore; I’ve written only stories for the rag for over a year now. And why the _fuck_ do I feel comfortable enough to… to…spew that fucking drek?” Her voice breaks on that last word and so does she.

Arms wrap around her waist and Kara turns, crying into her sister's shoulder.

“A-Alex—I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like—like t-that! B-but I… sometimes I dream of…” Her cheek flares up with a phantom pain; of a bruise long healed but a scar never so.

Alex shushes her, her hands rubbing her back soothingly; Kara’s reminded of the first months in America, when the voices of those around her confused her so; when it was so _loud and bright_ ; when it was too… too much for Kara. Kara relaxes into the touch.

Alex’s voice cracks a little. “Of course ya didn’t Kara. I know—we both had it rough, huh?”

Kara wetly laughs. “Yeah, I guess we did. But—“

When Kara doesn’t finish her sentence, Alex pulls away slightly to look her in the eyes. “But?”

“It—It’s easy to forget around… over the last day I’ve spoken more… like _that_ than I have in… years. I—I didn’t even think before I said that. It just… slipped out.”

Alex gives Kara a knowing look. “And why is that?” Kara blushes, mumbling her response. “What was that? I know how to make you talk, Kara Zoryll.”

Kara’s voice is whisper that barely carries to Alex’s ear, and her face looks burnt to a crisp, with how flushed it is. 

(And she knows she would never admit her _feelings_ what they may be, but it’s _Alex_ , asking with a knowing look and there’s nothing she can do from spilling out the single word, the _name_ causing all of this.)

“L-Lena.”

Alex smirks. “Oh, _Lena_ makes ya feel comfortable enough to talk in… what did ya call it? That drek?”

Kara shrugs, her eyes darting to her shoes. “It’s… I feel comfortable around her. It’s—it’s nice. Even thinking about… _home_ is less difficult around her.”

Alex’s eyes open wide at that. “Oh _drek_ , my sister is halfway in love with Lena _Luthor_ of all people.”

“I’m not!” When Kara is treated to a sceptical raise of the eyebrow, she pouts. “I—I’m not halfway in love with Lena. She’s just caring and kind and yeah she’s a flirt but she seems interested in me and I just like her a lot, okay? I…” She bites her lip. “I want to know if there’s a future there, ya know. Except, I know there ain’t.”

Alex pulls Kara”s head into her shoulder once again.

“Of course there can be, Kara. Kara Zoryll is incredible and Lena Luthor would be lucky to have ya.”

“Ya are just sayin’ that because ya my sister, so ya have to.”

Kara feels Alex shake her head; feels it gently jostle her own. “I said it because it’s true.”

Kara doesn’t say anything else; they stand for a few minutes like that before pulling apart. Alex doesn’t say anything of Kara’s puffy red eyes or her general appearance or the tear stains on her shoulder; neither do Lena and Sam when they return to the table.

Instead Lena is holding a glass out to Kara; it looks like orange juice but reeks of booze. “The best hangover cure.” She winks.

Kara gives Lena a small nod, hoping to convey her gratitude without words. She hopes that Lena understands; her smile suggests she might. Lena then turns to the table at large. “So I filled Sam in on some… relevant details; and…” She locks eyes with Sam for a brief moment, “she agreed to help us with our Maxwell Lord problem. But I suspect,” her smile grows into her usual smirk, “I wasn’t the motivating factor.” Sam and Alex make a point of looking anywhere but at each other as Lena laughs. “But now, well, I’ll leave the details to you three. We should all start preparing for the party, though, no? Just remember, you two,” she gestures to Alex and Kara, “if anyone asks, you two work for me because Jess is out ill, and really it requires more than one person to replace her.” Kara and Alex just nod.

Once again, Lena takes the bill, waving off any protests to the contrary. “I’m the famous actress here, and you’re only here because I asked. Of course breakfast is on me.” And really, Alex and Kara aren’t about to argue over a bill that cost each of them $5.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed a bit more reluctant. “We can’t just _assume_ you’ll pay for us Lena. You should at least let me--”

Lena interrupts. “I won’t hear of it. You keep your,” she looks down at the bill, “$5.15 and make sure to pick something up for Ruby later. You can buy her… what? 100 sweets with that?”

“Lena, even you know that’s an unreasonable amount of candy bars to give her.”

“I know no such thing.” And with that Lena’s placing $25 on the table and staring down each of the others. Sam sighs and throws up her arms, apparently giving in to Lena's persistence. Lena grins.

“Well, you Sam, I’ll see at the party, and…” she turns to Alex and Kara, but her eyes lock with Kara. “I’ll meet you two in the hotel lobby, at 5? Gives us plenty of time to rest and get ready.”

* * *

It’s five to 5 and, really, Kara’s been sitting in the lobby for twenty minutes, happily munching on the little chocolates left sitting at the check-in desk;despite the glances that the concierge is giving her, the little sign says they’re _complimentary_ and really, she checked. They refill the bowl every twenty minutes; every ten when they started paying attention to Kara.

Kara is careful, however, to keep it off her outfit; it’s the only nice thing that she (well, Alex) packed for herself. She specifically chose it to be worn for this party. A blue dress (Alex always says that blue is her colour) that cuts off just below the knees. It’s sleeveless; a testament to the fact that Alex chose the dress and not Kara.

(Alex always tells Kara that people love seeing her arms; that they’re amongst the most attractive part of her.)

(Kara can never quite bring herself to believe it; they’re broad, unfeminine. However… however…)

(She remembers the way that Lena’s eyes followed the curve of her arms last night; how Lena’s face revealed something… something that Kara can’t place.)

Her train of thought is interrupted by Alex’s sudden presence; wearing a suit; it’s not particularly well-tailored, but it’s good enough. No one should be paying them particular attention. Kara smiles up at her sister. “Hey ya.”

Alex takes in Kara’s chocolate binging and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If ya get shmutz all over that dress I will murder ya.”

Kara’s grin grows smugly self-satisfied. “Love ya too Alex. Anyway, heard anything from Lena?”

“No, I--” Alex is interrupted; the concierge desk’s telephone rings. After a few rings it stops, replaced by the low murmur of conversation, and Alex starts up again. “No I haven’t. And ya haven’t?”

“No, of course not! When would I ha--” It’s Kara’s turn to be interrupted, this time by a polite cough. They both turn to see the concierge standing there, looking at them expectantly.

“Ms. Danvers and Danvers?” Alex and Kara nod in acknowledgement. “Ms. Luthor has called down to inform you that, unfortunately, she is running late. Her driver has already been informed that he will be taking just the two of you to your destination, and she has arranged separate transportation. Also that she’s arranged… a different timing, and she’ll signal you when it’s time.” Kara’s stomach sinks slightly, as she washes away under a wave of disappointment, but she puts on a smile.

“Oh, thank ya. For letting us know. We’ll just… head outside and wait?” Why is Alex letting her dig herself deeper and deeper in this hole? But the concierge merely turns away and leaves them, apparently satisfied in finishing their duties.

The sisters share a resigned look, and turned to walk to the entrance, Kara leans to whisper in Alex’s ear. “Remember the plan.”

When Kara tries to straighten up, Alex grabs her shoulder and pulls her down to meet Alex’s glare as they continue to walk; an Alex Danvers speciality. “What plan? Our only plan is getting in and somehow finding out about Governor Lane. But we don’t know where or why or who?”

“Oh right. I--uh, forgot to mention. After dinner last night, well…” Kara swallows. “L-Lena told me that we might wanna have a chat with the Governor’s daughters; Lois and Lucy. B-but, we didn’t really get a chance,” Kara flushes at the memory, “uh, we didn’t really get a chance for her to tell me why.”

Alex stops in her tracks. Kara does not, and they stumble, desperately attempting to regain their footing. “Why didn’t ya tell me that ya--Ya didn’t get the chance?” She hisses out a loud whisper: “Don’t tell me that you… did _that_ with Lena? And ew, I don’t wanna hear about it, but…” She lowers her voice. “Could ya at least tell me if Lena Luthor is… I’ve always suspected she’s something of a kiki.”

Kara shakes her head. “Alex, it’s not like that! She… invited me to have some brandy, I had a little more than some and so I ended up having to crash at hers.”

Alex gives Kara a blank look, her tone droll. “Yeah because it was so far for ya to walk.”

Kara pouts and crosses her arms. “Lena insisted! And the train was bumpy around that time; going all up and down and up and down. It honestly would have been unsafe.”

“Uh huh.” Alex doesn’t look convinced, at all. But there’s something there, a flicker of something that Kara recognizes but quite can’t place, as if… Alex looks betray--

Kara pauses. _Oh_. She grabs Alex’s wrist. “Alex, I promise. If it was _something_ , I’d have told ya. Always ya before anyone else. Got it? This was just me havin’ a few drinks with Lena, okay?”

Alex breaks into a small smile. “I know, Kara.” She winks. “I was messin’ with ya. As if I wouldn’t know exactly what happened when I saw ya face. Oh shmegeggie.”

At that moment, the driver arrives, and Kara is left with her mouth open, frozen in the spot, as her sister laughs her way into the car.

* * *

Kara finds the party boring. In fact, she finds it _excruciatingly_ boring. It’s all meaningless chatter, and Alex slipped away within moments of entering; her muttered mumbling of “casing the place” slightly undermined as Kara watched her dash directly in the direction of the nearest drink. _Oh_ , and men staring down her cleavage with each pointless introduction she makes doesn't do much to endear her to the situation.

Or rather... she does find it boring, and yet it takes her intense concentration to not get caught up in it. After all, there’s _famous_ people everywhere. She nearly trips over her own feet when she saw the two actresses Mr. Wayne pointed out the other day (Harley and… Pamela, if Kara remembers the chatter on the set accurately) hanging off each other. Or Mr. Lord’s auteur director Leslie Willis casually sipping some champagne with a short woman with a powerful presence.

(Kara doesn’t have the foggiest idea who she is, but she does want to learn. And not just because of her sharply tailored dress, almost military in style, and her level stare.)

So it’s in this state of mind that Kara almost ends up walking into a blonde woman’s outstretched hand, before her body unconsciously stops herself and instead grasps the offered hand.

“Sara Lance.” Kara is at the receiving end of a flirty smile. “Laurel’s sister.” Kara wracks her brain, trying to attach a face to that name; or even a job, but she fails; no one very visible. Sara raises an eyebrow. “Laurel Lance? Executive Vice-President of Legal at Luthor Productions?”

Kara makes a sudden noise of recognition; she hopes it doesn’t betray how forced it is. “S-sorry. I’ve been working for Ms. Luthor for… only a week now and, well, it sometimes takes me a bit to learn names, ya know?” A lie; Kara is fantastic with names.

Sara’s eyes open a little. “What, Jess finally wisen up and get a job where someone can take care of her?”

Kara shakes her head. “No, just out ill.”

Sara gives a sympathetic frown. “Must be quite bad for Jess to not be stuck to Ms. Luthor’s side.”

Kara noncommittally shrugs. “It’s not like they went into details, and I didn’t really want them too.”

Sara laughs. “Good policy.” It’s now that Kara realizes that they haven’t ended the handshake yet, and “Anyway, you never told me your name.”

“O-oh! I’m Kara… Danvers. Kara Danvers.”

Sara pulls her lips up into an odd smile; smug yet discerning.

(Kara, ridiculously, finds it absolutely attractive.)

“Kara, huh? Rolls off the tongue nicely.” And if Lena’s purr the other night was a purr, then how Sara enunciates phoneme of each syllable in each word in the sentence “rolls off the tongue nicely” is an equal and equivalent purr.

A familiar voice pipes up behind Kara, both flat and unamused and also warm and complimentary. “Yes it does, doesn’t it.”

(Before then, Kara had never heard a short statement loaded with so many meanings.)

Kara turns her head, only to find… Lena standing there; still dressed in the clothes she wore to breakfast.

(She’s slightly disappointed that there wasn’t an impromptu wardrobe change, but that is nothing to the surging rush of affection that courses through her body at the mere thought of _Lena_.)

And then red lips are pressed to Kara’s cheek, only to pull away with a distinct _pop_. “Hello Kara, darling. You look absolutely marvelous.” She then loops her arm through Kara’s and turns to Sara with a (genuine?) smile. “Sara, how lovely to see you. I’m sorry Laurel couldn’t make it.”

Sara’s jaw clenches visibly; even after a few moments it hasn’t fully relaxed. “Yes, she is always great fun.”

Lena hums, as if she doesn’t notice the way she threw Sara off kilter. “Now I’d love to stay and chat, but sadly I’m needed elsewhere. A special surprise; bit last minute.” She accompanies that with a slight squeeze to Kara’s arm, before pulling away, and heading… somewhere.

As Kara (once again) is unable to turn away from Lena walking away, Sara laughs. “Wow, I’ll admit, you got a pretty hot boss, I can totally see why you’re hot for boss. That was some move there. I didn’t stand a chance. Well, what is it that those fancy British people say? C’est la vie? That. Catch you later Kara…” Sara walks past Kara, bumping into her in a friendly manner, before stopping and turning. “By the way, if your sister’s up for… what we talked about, tell her I’m ready whenever she is. She knows what to do.” And she’s gone before Kara can even begin to feel sick over the implication there.

It’s on her way to clear the bile in her throat that she still feels after a few moments that she spots a sight most welcomed and a different sight also very welcomed but at this moment highly inconvenient. The most welcomed sight is her sister and Sam, heads bent close together as they add to whispered conversation they are having.

(From the looks on both of their faces, and the already present nausea, Kara _definitely_ doesn’t want to hear this one.) 

The other one is short and blonde and, even as she stands still, Kara can _hear_ her heels, clicking in a power walk.

Kara doesn’t even pause after touching Alex’s shoulder. “Cat Grant’s here.”

Alex’s eyes open wide. “Oh _drek_.”

Sam interjects. “Why is Cat Grant being here a bad thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing that she’s here; it’s a bad thing that she’s _here_ and can potentially see me.”

Sam quirks an eyebrow up. “Okay, so why is Cat Grant being _here_ and can potentially see you a bad thing? She a former girlfriend of yours or something? I can tell you right now, that Lena ain’t gonna be happy about that.”

Kara sucks in a quick breath, pushing to one side the flare in her stomach at Sam's quip. “No no no no no no no no. Definitely not that.” Alex gives Kara a pointed look of disbelief. But now’s definitely not the moment to relitigate the “Kara definitely was in love with her boss without realizing” debate, and so Kara ignores it. “Uhhh, basically, Cat Grant is kinda my boss and she’ll _definitely_ recognize me and she ain’t the type to hesitate to call me out and then everyone knows we don’t actually work for Lena and it’ll be over. So…” She catches Alex’s eye. “Sorry Sam, but I’ve gotta throw you to the wolves. Or well, wolf.” And she pushes Sam in Cat’s direction, who instantly notices the stumbling brunette. Sam tosses a murderous glance over her shoulder, before straightening herself up and reaching a hand out, to introduce herself to Cat. Kara takes a sigh of relief as she slips through crowd, trying to escape elsewhere, before the signal. Whatever that may be.

Kara doesn’t have to wait long before something that might be an answer presents itself. It’s during her third minute of hiding from Cat Grant’s gaze that the crowd suddenly begins to funnel itself into a single room; one that had been closed off previously. When she steps in, it appears to be a theater stage, a velvet curtain crosses it, undrawn. Something rustles behind there (a person maybe), and a wolf-whistle or two rings out closer to the front. The curtain shakes in response, and a leg becomes visible as a person steps out behind the curtain. Or rather: 

Lena steps out from behind the curtains and Kara, whose very success depends on her _not_ looking, looks. To be far more accurate, Kara _stares_. Which is honestly something quite understandable: after all, Lena’s not wearing what she was only minutes ago. No, she is wearing something _entirely_ different.

Lena steps out in a red dress, that barely covers her breasts and dives between her cleavage; long purple gloves cover her entire arms to nearly the shoulder. Her hair falls in waves around her shoulders and down her shoulder blades. She catches Kara’s eye and smirks, taking a step forward, revealing the long slit that cuts from just under her hip. She’s standing on impossibly tall stilettos that lifts her legs in a way that enchants Kara.

A piano (and _when_ did that appear?) sits on the side of the stage, some faceless person manning it. Lena looks over there and nods; they strike a chord. And Lena… Lena… sashays over toward it, hips swinging exaggeratedly; or rather, toward a microphone resting right next to the piano that, again, Kara missed being placed. Lena pushes herself onto the back of the piano, reclining upon it, her red lips nearly leaving a mark upon the microphone, and she opens her mouth, taking a deep breath.

But before she makes any noise Lena catches Kara’s eyes once more; but instead of a smirk and a sultry wink, it comes with a slight nod toward the main doors. It’s enough to break the spell Lena held over Kara in that moment, and she makes for the nearest exit.

As Kara steps outside, she hears Lena’s voice, words lingering as Kara takes in the cool air:

 _Another bride, another June_  
Another sunny honeymoon  
Another season, another reason  
For makin' whoopie

* * *

Kara’s first goal, when she steps outside, is to track down Alex. Fortunately, if there is a topic that Kara is an expert on, it’s the habits of her sister; a finely tuned skill that she sharpens repeatedly. If Alex took the signal for what it is (which she should have), and left before Kara due to a lack of… the sort of distraction Kara faced; she’d have headed to the nearest exit. However, she wouldn’t stay there. Instead she’d head for…

Kara casts her eyes about, noticing a fountain, tall, easy to spot, with a handful of people milling around. Private enough to meet, but public enough not to draw attention.

And indeed, as she approaches, Kara spots her sister, looking down the fountain with a bored expression on her face. Kara approaches her slightly louder than necessary; though the risks of startling Alex Danvers definitely outweigh the risks of walking loudly. Instead of speaking, they both stare at the centerpiece for a moment. Kara can’t make heads or tails what it is; it’s an imperfect sphere, a handful of stone spikes sticking out of it.

(When Kara first… came to her new home, she studied art; or rather, would spend her days in the library, trying to parse through the dense English to understand, exactly, what those books were saying about the pictures within it.)

(She’s not sure she learned much about art from that method, the texts often too technical for her to understand, but she wonders what those books would say about this in front of her.)

When Alex looks up, she waggles her eyebrow at Kara. “Hell of a signal, huh?”

Kara simply shrugs, as if it wasn’t a mind shattering event; an event she might use to demarcate the periods in her life. “Well we’re supposed ta find the Lane sisters. Any idea what they may look like or where they may be?”

Alex smiles. “Lois, no. Lucy, on the other hand…” She trails off.

“What about Lucy?”

Alex shrugs, smugly. “Well she may have passed on a very… interesting message to me.”

Kara frowns. “An… interesting message?”

Alex vaguely waves her hand, her face turned away from Kara. “Well, inviting me to… Well, I actually got more than one… invitation like that tonight. Someone named Sara--”

Kara’s eyes widen as she interrupts. “Nope. No, no, no. Oy vey iz mir, no. If it’s the kind of thing that Sara passed on to ya, then no stop talking now.”

Alex turns back to Kara. “You know Sara?”

“Just met her like twenty minutes ago. But she did make some comment about telling ya if ya are interested, ya know what to do and I absolutely refuse to know any details about that.”

Alex laughs. “Well I thought about accepting but then I’d have to leave ya on your own.”

“But what about Sam?”

“We didn’t exactly uh,” Alex blushes as her jaw tightens, “talk about that. I… I don’t think we’re supposed to be a… I don’t think we’re long term.”

Kara frowns; something about Alex’s tone is off, but she’s not sure if she has enough time to unpack it. Not at the moment. “Well, at least this way we got an in with one of the sisters.”

Alex nods, her face relaxing. “Let’s go run into Lucy Lane.”

* * *

Running into Lucy Lane, apparently, turns out to be quite literal; at least going by how Kara nearly trips over a short brunette who she couldn’t properly see in the crowd.

(Outside had been a bust, and Kara was simply hoping not to have to go into the same room as Lena… again; fortunately, it seems like only a handful of the women are listening to Lena sing, or perhaps unfortunately because Lena’s now being… _leered_ at, probably, by a group of old--)

(It is at this moment that Kara nearly trips over a short brunette, therefore breaking her train of Lena related thoughts.)

(When Kara has successfully not tripped, and has taken a step back, she notices that it’s the same woman that Kara saw talk to Leslie Willis earlier in the night; and oh how much easier would this entire night have been if Kara had simply known.)

As Kara begins her profuse apologies, Alex steps in, with a wide (and simply nervous) smile on her face. “Hi! Ms. Lane! Sorry but we chatted it up not too long ago? I’m--”

Lucy inclines her head. “Alex Danvers.” She turns to Kara. “And you are?”

“Kara Danvers.” Kara glances over to Alex. “Alex’s sister.”

Lucy smiles at the two, though it’s a little terse; as if she can’t decide whether the conversation amusing or simply annoying. “Lucy Lane; a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She holds out her hand, and Kara gives it a quick shake.

Kara knows, just knows, that she can make or break this. So she does what she must, and throws Alex into the spotlight.

(Kara hopes that she doesn’t need to do something similar to Lena before the night is through. She’s already 2 for 3.)

“Well, ya know, looking at my sister,” she leans in to stage whisper to Lucy, “I think that the pleasure is mostly hers.” If looks could kill, Alex would have just been guilty of a murder, but there would have been no body to prove it actually ever happened.

But… Lucy’s smile breaks into amusement and she laughs.

A new voice appears behind Alex, and Kara whips her head around to catch a taller woman, but with a skin tone a shade darker than Lucy, appear. She’s wearing a sharp pantsuit, and therefore must “Ah, there’s my sister. And with some rather…” this new arrival (Lois?) rakes her eyes up and down Alex’s body and Kara shudders. “Ravishing company, if I do say so myself.”

Lucy turns to glare the other woman. “Lois…”

Lois simply shoots off a charming, lopsided smile. “Lucy, I was complimenting the company that _you_ chose.” Instead of responding, Lucy moves closer to Alex, placing a hand on her arm. Alex is left staring at it wide eyed, her face blushing fiercely. “Anyway, what do the two of you do that merits an invitation to an event like this?”

Given Alex’s incapacitated state, Kara is left to carry the conversation. “We’re both assistants working under--for! Working for Ms. Luthor.” Lois gives Kara a knowing glance before flicking her eyes toward _the_ door.

(The one behind which Kara is certain Lena is still giving her performance; trying to give them time to do… this.)

(The one behind which Lena is looking like _that_ and Kara’s mouth is dry again, as she fights the unconscious desire to lick her own lips.)

Unfortunately, Lois then follows it up with a knowing statement. “How is it to work under…” she smirks at Kara, “I’m sorry, how is it to work for Ms. Luthor? She is an impressive woman.”

“Oh? I didn’t think that… well…” Kara shrugs, as if she lost her words.

Lois laughs. “Didn’t think that any member of the Governor’s family would be fond of someone with the last name Luthor?”

Kara hesitantly nods. “I mean, the campaign got a little…” Kara waves her hand, this time actually at a loss for words.

“To be honest,” Lois leans in closer to Kara, as if sharing some deep secret, “Dad always liked Lex Luthor. Sure things got a little heated in the campaign, but… Dad even liked that bit; it invigorated him. Brought out the old soldier in him. Really, the day that he heard Lex had…” she trails off a moment, “I do believe he cried a little.”

Kara wishes to press this line of inquiry a little further; feeling somehow left for a lurch, part of the story somehow grinding gears in her mind yet not the right parts (not the parts that would suggest that there is something more to this), but she catches movement from the corner of her eye. Specifically, short and blonde movement. _Drek_.

No hurried movements; Kara had heard once that that’s the way to deal with sharks in the water, and it might help do the same with Cat Grant.

(It was the first time Kara ever saw the ocean; boarding a cramped boat to take them across the water to a place. But she remembers a schoolmate of hers, boasting about the time he got to see the ocean and how it’s filled with sharks, ready to take a bite. She hadn’t believed him at the time, but as she walked up that ramp, Alex’s hand firmly grasping hers, she can’t help but think of his tale as she looks over the side. And then she saw… _something_ moving. And that’s when she decided to scream.)

(But before Alex or Eliza could calm her down, an old man, the person right behind her, laughed. When she looked up inquisitively upon his lined face, she remembers him saying, _“Oh little one. Do not worry about the sharks in the depths. Even if you fall in, as long as you stay as still as possible, they won’t eat you up. And then your sister there,” he nods at Alex, “she will come and save you.”_ )

(He spoke with such conviction that Kara can’t help but… believe him.)

Whether or not that is actually useful advice to deal with a shark, it, unfortunately, doesn’t apply to Cat Grant. Kara learns that when she hears a very familiar clearing of the throat.

“Kiera, what an absolute surprise.” Cat’s voice is definitely not one of surprise.

Kara catches Alex’s body stiffen from the corner of her eyes, but Kara can’t take a moment to check, to reassure her sister. Instead she keeps her eyes locked on Cat’s, trying to communicate… _somehow_ that Cat doesn’t spill her secret.

And after a moment, when Cat hasn’t continued speaking, Kara internally sighs with relief; she’s passed the first hurdle of this conversation. “Ms. Grant! How are ya?”

“I’m fine Kiera. But, please, if I may have a private word?” The question left no room for disagreement. And yet Kara looks over her shoulder to catch the eyes of the three women around her. Despite the gleefully predatory look on Lois’ face, Kara doesn’t catch any objection.

Kara shrugs. “Where to Ms. Grant?”

* * *

Cat has apparently decided to lead her to an empty balcony; when Kara looks off it, a strange mixture of thrill and fear roiling in her stomach.

(She sees the movement in the water, the pure certainty that it’s a shark…)

“Now, I don’t know why you are… cavorting around with _Lois_ Lane of all people, nor do I care. But you do need a better plan than just throwing some unknown at me. Really, Samantha Arias? As if anyone but your sister cares who she is.” When Kara opens her mouth to interject, Cat just pins her with a withering stare. “It didn’t take long, really, before she started… gushing about your sister and, Kiera, you know how I feel about gushing.”

Kara pinches her nose. Maybe Sam wasn’t the best option for the situation. “I truly am sorry Ms. Grant, but I couldn’t let people know that I’m not really Lena Luthor’s assistant.”

Cat’s eyes begin to grow calculating. “Knowing you, you wouldn’t have made your cover dependent on her if she wasn’t in on it. So, Ms. Luthor is part of this tangled web. And so, here you are, chasing a story. Or perhaps…” She stands still a brief moment, and Kara knows much better than to interrupt. When she speaks again, her eyes have softened, looking almost… _fond_. “Kiera, for as little as I show it, I do care. And while she is certainly charming and easy on the eyes, be _careful_. I have a feeling that down that any road Lena Luthor takes lays complications.”

Kara’s jaw clenches. “Ms. Grant, ya taught me not to judge the story before getting the truth. And every time I have gotten a glimpse of the truth regarding Lena, I have found nothing but simplicity.”

Cat smiles vaguely, giving a small touch to Kara’s biceps. Cat’s done it before, usually when Kara is in the middle of one panic or another. And usually the action calms Kara, grounds her. But this time, it just raises her defences even further. “It’s just a bit of friendly advice, nothing more. Just don’t expect me to clean up this mess if it blows up in your face.”

Kara looks down at Cat, and she can _feel_ the way her own eyes narrow, her brow furrow, the stubborn crinkle working its way into her features. Before she speaks, she takes a moment to adjust her glasses. “There is absolutely no world in which trusting and caring about Lena Luthor backfires on me. Only a shtick drek would think otherwise.” 

(During the middle of her response, from the corner of her eye, Kara catches a set of ridiculously high heels and a shimmering red dress hurry away.)

The clock strikes midnight. “Well Ms. Grant, I think the party is _finally_ over. I hope ya have a good night.” Kara’s already walking away before she gives Ms. Grant the chance to respond.

She’s almost out of hearing range before Cat responds, faintly. “The moment the article is written, I want it on my desk.”

* * *

It’s nearly 1 in the morning when Kara decides _not_ to drown her bubbling emotions with alcohol. She hasn’t seen Alex, Lena or Sam since the party; nor is she going to tempt fate by trying to visit Alex’s room.

(As for Lena… Kara’s not sure what she’d do if she did see Lena now, while her… argument? or whatever it was, with Cat playing on repeat in her head; it’s best to avoid that particular temptation.)

But she’s begun stripping for bed, too tired to even do more than that, and her dress is slightly loosened when someone knocks on Kara’s door.

Kara opens the door; her mouth half open to ask Alex what she wants when she sees that it’s _Lena_ , in the same outfit she was wearing while she was on stage. “L-Lena! What are ya--” and she doesn’t get to finish her sentence because suddenly _Lena’s_ lips on hers and she’s being pushed back into the room and somehow the door slams behind her and Lena’s heels get lost somewhere on the floor and Lena’s grasping onto Kara’s biceps like they’re the only thing anchoring her down, and Kara’s knees are hitting the bed and suddenly she’s on her back; Lena’s _straddling_ her and Kara’s entire world becomes _Lena_.

Kara’s hands begin to wander down to Lena’s waist and grasp just above her hips, her pinky barely grazing skin on the side with a slit; Lena gasps, squeezing Kara’s arm even tighter, her lips nearly touching Kara’s. When she speaks, Kara feels, more than hears, what she says. “Please tell me this is okay.”

It takes Kara a moment to recover from the loss of Lena’s lips on hers (and wow, what lips are they) to recognize what she says. It takes Kara another moment to respond. And in that moment Kara found time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions. She shouldn’t, she _musn’t_ ; there are a hundred things to go wrong. But each time she demands to see one, to examine it, to take solace in what she must do, she smells the slight scent of Lena’s sweat, she hears the quick pant of Lena’s breath, feels Lena’s body pressed on top of her, senses the rapid beat of Lena's heart against her skin, sees Lena’s eyes locked onto hers, pupils dilated.

But… But… 

“Only if ya tell me that this,” Kara presses a hand between her and Lena’s body, “is… is _something_.” She can hear the plea in her voice; she knows her request is loud and clear, even if she doesn't, can't, verbalize it.

Lena stiffens in Kara’s arms, her eyes contracting instantly and her eyes casting away from Kara’s. “Uh, I-I…” Lena swallows, her voice softening to a quiet whisper. “I’m not sure that would be wise.”

It’s Kara’s moment to lock up, biting her own lip in an effort to stave back the tears, suddenly building behind her eyes. Lena gives Kara a conflicted look, before pulling away slightly. “T-That’s okay. It-It’s not like y-ya could h-have…” Kara trails off. “I-it’s not like ya asked for me to-to, to feel this way.”

And it’s funny, but Kara thinks that Lena’s eyes look moist as well, when why should her’s be? Must be just a trick of her own tears. Lena reaches her hand out, as if to give Kara some comfort. Kara can’t help how she moves away, unwilling to let herself fall into the easy comfort she sought in Lena… before. A flash of… _something_ crosses Lena’s face, but it disappears with a sad smile.

“Oh Kara. My darling starling, you have no idea how lucky I would be--No, it’s just… I’m… you don’t deserve to have me… _inflicted_ upon you. Not like that.” Lena shakes her head. “We can either have this one night, or let it pass us by as a never but a could have. But I can’t tell you…” She trails off.

Kara sits up a little straighter, trying (and failing) to catch Lena’s eye. “You can’t tell me what?”

Lena shrugs her shoulders, defeatedly. “Which would hurt worse.”

Kara can’t help but wrap her arms around Lena and draw her into a hug.

(The warm press of Lena’s body against her is still distracting, and she wishes that Lena hadn’t asked the question, had presumed, then they could be busy doing… far more pleasurable things. But, really, that’s not who Lena is.) 

“I don’t get why this _can’t_ be something. I… I ain’t anybody but myself when I’m around ya. How is that… a bad thing?”

Lena shakes her head, and Kara can hear the small cracks in her voice. “Please, please don’t make me explain it. I--I couldn’t. I can’t. The-there is so much y-you don’t know about me.”

Kara only grips at Lena tighter. “Tell me, and maybe then I’ll understand.”

Tears are freely flowing from Lena, but she’s smiling sadly and she turns herself to touch Kara’s face gently. “Don’t make this difficult, darling starling. Just trust me.” And Kara can’t do anything but nod. What else could she do? She can’t force Lena to tell her. Relief washes over Lena’s face and she presses a soft kiss to Kara’s lips before trying to pull away, off the bed. Kara doesn’t loosen her grip, however. 

“Please, don’t go. I’d… like to have tonight too. In one way or another.” Lena nods and both strip off their dresses (and if Kara said that she wasn’t affected by seeing the waistlette that Lena packed in front of her, she’d be lying). Kara’s arms wrapping around Lena shoulders while Lena’s legs burrow between Kara’s; their entire bodies are pressed together.

(And despite the energy coursing through Kara’s veins, despite her unsettled emotions, she finds it easy… all together too easy to be lulled by Lena’s breathing, the faint outline of a softly beating heart resting underneath her arm. All too easy to drift off on a lazy wave and fall into dreams.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come yell at me on my [my Tumblr!](https://alienbeegenders.tumblr.com) Or comment! Or kudos! I love it when you guys do that! It makes my day!
> 
> Fun note: The phrase "Ms. Danvers and Danvers" makes me break out into "Marley and Marley" from The Muppet's Christmas Carol without fail.
> 
> Also I promise the communism and cross dressing are definitely happening next chapter.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Drek: Shit.
> 
> shmegeggie: Idiot. (In this case being used affectionately.)
> 
> shtick drek: Piece of shit.
> 
> Oy vey iz mir: Oh woe is me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Alex have to play a little dress up, Lord Studios is a terrible place, and Kara and Lena are terrible at pretending to be platonic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a hot minute, hasn't it. And sure I can go into the reasons for why it took me so long with this chapter, but I'm guessing most of you don't really care about that; just know life's been busy and I'm lazy. Both of those things means that it's taken me this long to write this (plus whatever I've written of the next chapter).
> 
> What is important is that this isn't the last chapter! I intended it to be but the Lord Studio bit to be much shorter but then it got kinda long and well, stringing it all together gave it a nice cutoff point so I decided to put this chapter up.
> 
> Anyway, quick content warnings: this chapter does contain a) explicit depictions of misogyny, nothing too terrible but if you don't feel like reading about lecherous people with shitty attitudes towards women being made fun of then more power to you and b) this chapter does contain references and depictions to both panic and trauma, as well as veiled references to the cause of said trauma. I've bracketed off it off with **; you don't really miss much beyond some character moments if you skip it, really. At least I think.

When she wakes up in the morning, Lena is gone; and there’s no sign she ever was in the room. Her side of the bed is mostly made, her dress and heels are gone. Nor does Kara glimpse hair or hide of her on the train ride back. It’s an afternoon train, and it doesn’t extend indefinitely like the other. And, soon enough, Kara, Alex and Sam are left standing on the platform, back in National City.

(Lena is still, obviously, nowhere to be found.)

(Kara finds herself in an inexplicably tetchy mood.)

Sam briefly touches Alex’s shoulder. “D-do you mind if I stop off briefly at yours? We… we have to have a chat before I go collect Ruby from Jack.” She stops, eyes widening. “I--I mean, about what to do about Maxwell Lord, since there is a problem!” The conversation pauses and Alex and Sam simply stare at each other, mouths opened slightly and blushing. It’d be endearing if it weren’t so… bothersome.

(And no that has nothing to do with how tetchy Kara is, of course not. That would require her knowing why she’s tetchy, and she steadfastly refuses to even think of the large sign over her head that simply reads _Lena_.)

Kara answers the question gruffly. “Come along then.”

She senses Alex’s frown but doesn’t acknowledge it; instead taking the time to impatiently call for a taxi. Nor does Kara even catch Alex’s eyes as she indelicately loads their suitcases into the cab, shoves herself as close to the door as possible, and grumbles out their address.

(Kara doesn’t even do much but frown when Alex had to repeat Kara’s words.)

(In fact, Kara doesn’t do much of anything until the cab is pulling up to their home, and Alex is putting money in the driver’s outstretched hand.)

Kara doesn’t do much of anything until she’s standing in front of their door, latchkey in hand and she finally realizes that she’s going to have to invite Sam _in_.

It’s odd, inviting someone into their home. No one ends up in their home. And with the… unusual presence, comes a break in the routine that Alex and Kara set up.

(Kara can’t go and immediately read aloud the hastily scribbled note that Eliza left them, telling them how Jeremiah’s been before she had to rush off to wherever she had to.)

(Nor can she share a small look with Alex, wondering when they even last saw Eliza in the flesh, beyond those few moments when she’s slipping out the door at the same time the other is slipping in, or vice versa.)

(And worst yet, the tension such moments bring remains; but neither Kara nor Alex can _break_ it, because to do so would open a window, no matter how small, into a world that is _theirs_ , and not anyone else’s.)

But… Alex is giving Sam a soft look and so Kara swallows every objection rising within her throat, and simply opens the door; she steps to one side to let Alex and Sam in.

(From the corner of her eyes, Kara can see Alex’s face scrunch up with every speck of dirt. Kara can’t blame her; there are quite a few specks of dirt, and just imagine if… _she_ we’re here.)

And for several minutes, an awkward pall hangs over the three of them; Kara and Alex shuffling around and pushing objects around in a desperate bid not to seem like they’re clearing, throwing out quiet and mumbled offers to Sam; for tea or coffee or food or anything which they can think of.

(Sam remains near the door; while contributing to the tension, at least when Alex checks on Jeremiah, Kara isn’t forced to make small talk.)

But, soon there is nothing more to be done; nothing more to do but address the person shaped elephant in the room.

Kara gives Alex a glance, hoping to force the moment to its crisis. Alex just rolls her eyes. “Sam, why don’t ya sit and tell us what ya wanted to tell us?” She pulls out a chair and Sam sits down tentatively; a fawn ready to run out on unsure legs.

When she speaks, Kara can hear the tension hiding underneath Sam’s forced mirth. “So, here’s the problem. Maxwell Lord, being the ass he is, only lets _men_ into his secret files. So I can get you all the way there, but I can’t pass that hurdle. So… you two either need to find two men who are willing to get what you need or…”

“Or?”

Sam smiles; more naturally this time. “How comfortable are you both with getting a little… makeup lesson?”

* * *

Early the next morning, Kara can tell that Alex has pretty much fallen in love with Ruby from the moment she saw her. Just the way that Alex relaxes, tension in her muscles falling away, and the easy smile that suddenly finds its way onto her face, the preteen has Alex wrapped around her fingers.

(Kara’s just waiting for that moment that Ruby realizes that; she’s a smart kid, so she should be able to use it to her advantage.)

But it’s not just how Alex acts, that tips Kara off, not really; more fundamentally, it’s the only explanation for the situation they currently find themselves in. And that’s why Kara finds herself suppressing a grin, watching Ruby skillfully harden the shape of Alex’s face, all while Alex can do nothing but shoot soft eyes at her.

(Alex hates being made up; bitterly complaining each time that Eliza made her during her “debutante” years, or if it a case Kara and her were working on demanded it.)

(And yet here she is, following every single instruction this girl gives her with utmost sincerity and _delight_.)

“You know, this feels weird.”

Sam’s in the room next door (her home this time), but yet calls out. “Why is that sweetheart?”

“Because Alex is so pretty, and we’re making her look less so.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

(And if Ruby’s compliment didn’t seal the deal, Sam’s implicit one did; Alex’s face is near beet red.)

“Alex, it’s hard to see when you’re blushing like that!” Kara laughs at the petulant tone to Ruby’s voice, as she imagines how Alex blushes even harder than that.

“Sweetheart, I think it’d be best to maybe work on Kara for a little while?”

Ruby grumbles but complies, moving over the large set of brushes and powders to sit in front of Kara. And so the next half hour passes in a haze; absently following each and every direction that Ruby sets forth for her, ears half tuned toward the low murmur of Alex and Sam’s voices; she can’t catch any words but she can hear how Sam stops by Alex’s seat very often, or how Alex’s voice always seems directed at Sam.

(Kara gets a sense, for really the first time, of how Sam and Alex share a space; naturally, comfortably. With an awareness that, had Kara not known they met a mere few days ago, appears second nature.)

(And Kara gets a flash, a very quick one, of her having the same kind of comfort and ease with _Lena_. The quick breath she takes shakes Ruby’s hand.)

Ruby pouts. “Kara! I was so close to being done with your makeup.”

Kara blushes, but Ruby doesn’t seem to notice; she instead starts fixing the mistake with small, practiced movements. Her hands push Kara’s face in all sorts of directions, and Kara begins to mindlessly follow Ruby’s every instruction once again. And so, after what felt like both several hours and a few seconds, Ruby’s leaning back to admire her handiwork.

“And that’s Kara… done! Alex, need to finish you up.”

Kara stands and shakes her head, trying to dispel the dawning realization, as Alex replaces her. Kara quickly walks to a small mirror in the hall; instead of lingering by Alex, Kara notices Sam keeping a few steps behind her.

She looks… As long as she hides her hair under her hat, she could pass for someone rather masculine. Ruby’s squared her jaw, darkened her cheeks precisely to pass as stubble at a quick glance. Her lips, thinned somewhat. Her neck accentuated to show off it’s breadth and muscular nature.

(She thinks, for a moment, that she looks _handsome_.)

Sam breaks Kara from her examination, with a gentle voice. “So we haven’t really gotten a chance to talk.”

Kara shrugs. “I haven’t really known ya that long; and I’d figure ya wouldn’t want me around for most of our acquaintance.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But it’s really easy to tell that your sister matters to you, a lot.” When Kara opens her mouth to retort, Sam continues. “I ain’t saying it doesn’t go both ways; but I’m the one doing… well, doing whatever this is with your sister.” Sam glances behind her, and Kara follows her gaze to Alex, patiently holding still for Ruby. “I like your sister. A lot. And I know this world can be a shitty place sometimes, and I can’t promise I’m good for her or any of that. But…” Kara hears Sam swallow, the slight catch in her throat, as she turns back to meet Kara’s gaze. “I don’t want this to be short. And that’s all I can promise.”

“So why ain’t ya telling her?”

Sam cracks a smile at that. “I will. But I figure she ain’t the one who might throw me out a window for not being clear about this.”

Kara laughs. “Just remember that, or ya’ll be a very unhappy goy.”

Sam cocks her head, as if she’s attempting to parse something. But at that moment, Ruby calls out from the other room. “Finished!”

Sam and Kara both twirl to have a look, and Kara has to clamp her hand over her mouth, lest her giggling escape.

(Sam, on the other hand, has her lips parted, eyes fixed on this new Alex, and Kara mentally blanches.)

(It helps with the laughter situation.)

Alex is… _so pointed_. Where Kara is squarer, Alex has been… narrowed. Her cheeks have lost their natural roundness, making the tapering into her chin look even more dramatic. Her soft eyes have been hardened into a stern glare. Kara imagines that even her smile would lack warmth.

In essence… it’s _Alex_ , as she’s always wanted the world to see her. But it’s not the Alex _Kara_ knows. 

(All Kara can see is a young Alex, “borrowing” Jeremiah’s razor, running it an inch away from her skin. She wanted stubble like him, at the time. Wanted to be so much like _him_.)

(She’s pretty sure that Alex hasn’t wanted to be like him for over a decade now.)

After a few moments of shameless gawking, Ruby clears her throat.

“And, finally, we need to dress you two up.”

Kara turns to Ruby, confusion clear in her throat. “But, we’ve already got trousers and shirts.”

Sam hums. “But they’re probably old, with stains and loose buttons and such?” Silence confirms her suspicion. “And this is Maxwell Lord. You need to _look_ the part and that means more than letting Ruby find two new human mannequins to practice on.” She smirks. “You’re going to be full bodied models for her.”

* * *

Kara’s certain, by this point, that Ruby’s having a grand old laugh; at least when she pushes boxers behind the makeshift curtain. “Ruby, I don’t--”

She gets cut off. “It’s going to look wrong if you ain’t wearing the proper attire all the way down. Trust me.” While Kara doesn't, the clear sound of someone walking away informs Kara that the conversation has apparently been had in its entirely.

(She doesn’t know, as she pulls them up her legs and around the tail of her undershirt, whether to be impressed or concerned that these are clearly the right size for her.)

(It’s been a full half hour of this; Kara being thrown clothes at random, hearing muffled voices in the background.)

It is only minutes later that she’s pulling the waistcoat over her shoulders; examining the cut of the outfit that Ruby all but threw at her.

The white dress shirt tightens slightly over her broad shoulders and strains when she curls her arm, but the chest is slightly loose. The waistcoat lengthens the space between her breasts and hip, and fills out the narrowing of her waist. Her trousers are slim, following the curve of her muscles. Her shoes, waxed and wing-tipped. And finally, her hair pinned up tightly beneath a smart black bowler. As long as she doesn’t remove it, her hair ought to look clipped clean.

(And that niggling feeling from before, the one calling her _handsome_ ; it discomforts her while also feeling at home.)

(She’s really not sure how to feel about it.)

Kara pushes back the curtains and sticks her head out; her lips parted to announce her presence when she involuntarily swallows her words.

Because, standing there… 

Lena is standing in Sam’s kitchen, lips quirked into a half laugh.

(As soon as she sees Kara, she freezes, and a hundred emotions seem to flicker over her face.)

(Kara doesn’t know what to make of it.)

(There’s a lot of that going around her life at the moment, it seems.)

Alex, for her part, rushes over to the curtain, pushing Kara out from behind and shutting it behind her; all while carrying her own bundle of clothing. Sam laughs at the display, before running her eyes up and down Kara’s body, eyebrow arching almost… _appreciatively_.

“Well now, Lena wouldn’t you agree that we should probably keep her like this?”

Lena simply slaps Sam’s shoulder, admonishingly. “Don’t… embarrass her like that.”

Sam shrugs. “I’m just saying what you’re thinking.”

“Hardly.” Lena’s scoff, however, is contrasted by her blushing cheeks.

“Sam left me word that my presence would be… appreciated.”

Kara swallows and nods. “I always do.”

(She doesn’t say anything as Lena’s face softens into a sincere smile, as her hand reaches out and gently plays with the cuff of Kara’s shirt.)

Kara barely hears the ruffle of the curtain, Alex’s and Ruby’s murmured voice. Her eyes try to pull away from Lena, but they keep flicking back; her world ever-centering around Lena, no matter how much she resists _her_ gravitational pull. 

(No matter how much she ignores the steady chant of _Lena, Lena, Lena_ , perfectly synced to the beat of her own heart.)

Kara only manages to look away after a short cough breaks the atmosphere; she turns, only to blush under Alex’s arched eyebrow.

(And what is it with the arching eyebrows? They make her shiver and feel guilty; as if she has caught with her hand in the rugelach tin. Which is ridiculous; she’s never been caught with her hand in the rugelach tin, since she’s plenty sneaky.)

“Time to say goodbye to Ms. Luthor; Sam’s taking us into Lord Studios.” 

Instead of saying goodbye, Kara gives her a small look and presses a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek.

(It is on Lena’s cheek, even if it captures a little more than the corner of Lena’s mouth; just a little. Perhaps a quarter of the whole thing.)

(It’s still… mostly on Lena’s cheek.)

(Probably.)

“I’ll, uh, see ya later.” And she exits Sam’s apartment, face burning hot enough to spontaneously combust.

(It doesn’t help that Sam and Alex are giving her amused if sceptical looks.)

She manages to stutter out, “Oh shvaygn!” and her harshest glare.

(Alex’s laughter suggests she wasn’t really successful.)

* * *

The security guard doesn’t even look up as they address the two sisters. “So you are?”

Kara catches Alex nodding from the corner of her eye, and so she speaks steadily and slowly, deepening her voice without sounding obvious.

(They made it to Lord Studios without incident. However, all that means is that they’re merely at the front gate; Lord Studios first line of defence, and therefore their first potential incident.)

(Or so Sam’s briefing went.)

“Clark Dancer.”

After a moment, Alex speaks up. “And his brother, Alex Dancer.”

“Business at Lord Studios?”

“Here to meet with Samantha Arias to just go over some documents.”

(They had decided not to go in with Sam; leaving her time to just off-handedly mention it to.)

The guard nods. “Right, right. Y’all the gentlemen that Sam tol’ me about. Of course…” Finally they look up and give a smile. “Alex Dancer?”

Kara freezes; Alex inclines her head a little, but her jaw is tight, her muscles tensing.

“Just wanted to let ya know that I think ya have an admirer in Ms. Arias, if ya know what I mean. Not that I blame her; yer a handsome devil.”

Alex ducks her head, trying to hide her face. “T-thanks for the heads up.”

Kara stomps out the grin she feels growing on her lips. “And her office is just straight ahead, right?”

“Ya got it.” They look down at their desk and, with each step Kara moves away from them, the tension drains further from her own body, and she even risks a large smile in Alex’s direction.

The next stage of the plan is far simpler; follow the instructions that Sam left them to her office and look like they belong there.

So, of course, they end up unsure which building, exactly, Sam is in.

Alex hisses. “She said it was the third building along.”

Kara shakes her head violently. “Nah. She said it was the fifth.”

“Do ya need to clean ya ears out?”

“Maybe ya need to pay attention when ya _girlfriend_ talks.”

“She’s… She’s not my girlfriend!”

Kara laughs at Alex’s incredulous expression. “Just a matter of time then.”

“N-No it ain’t! Just because we…” Alex blushes, “ya know, doesn’t mean we’re together together.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “But ya wanna be, right?”

“I mean…” Alex fidgets; she wrings her hands together. “I don’t not wanna be.”

“I’m pretty sure that Sam doesn’t not wanna be with you too.”

“H-how would ya know?”

Both sisters jump at a new voice. “Maybe if you ask me, I’d be… inclined to tell you.”

Alex and Kara swivel their heads to stare at the newly appeared Sam. Kara speaks first. “Sam! Hi! I promise we were getting to ya.”

Sam shrugs. “You two were taking too long, so I wanted to make sure you ain’t run into any trouble. I wasn’t expecting to find ya gossiping about me behind my back.” Her smile, however, undercuts any sharpness her words might have had.

Alex finally finds her voice. “S-sorry. We were… having a discussion where I was trying to tell Kara that ya office is in that building,” she gestures toward third building along.

Kara couldn’t help but interject. “And I was telling ya it was that building.” She points at the fifth building.

Sam rolls her eyes. “Oh, you two. It ain’t either of those. It’s the eighth building.” She gestures behind her. “Just follow me.”

She turns and walks away, leaving Kara and Alex to simply stare at each other before hurrying after Sam.

* * *

Step 3 of the plan is finally on the way when they step into Sam’s office. As soon as the door closes behind them, they collectively breathe a sigh of relief, tension draining from each of their shoulders.

Sam steps behind her desk, pulling aside some papers and a pen. “Okay, so we just need to hang around here long enough for the cover to be… solid, right?” Kara and Alex nod. Sam smiles at them, softly, before continuing. “So what really took you so long?”

Alex jumps in, her voice continuing the habit of stuttering in front of Sam. “W-we forgot which building ya were in; like we said.”

Sam cocks an eyebrow. “And so how was… what was it? Oh right!” She raises her voice in a crude imitation of Kara, ‘I’m pretty sure it ain’t like Sam doesn’t want to be with ya’ is relevant to that conversation?”

“Well, it-it’s too long to explain to ya now, we got a deadline.” Sam hums sceptically. “It’s true! Promise, I’ll tell ya later tonight, okay?”

Kara mumbles loudly. “I think there won’t be much in the way of tellin’.”

“Kara!” They both hiss, scandal and embarrassment flushing onto their features.

Sam lets loose a long-suffering sigh. “Alex is right, though. I just need to sign these papers, and…” Kara hears the scritching of Sam’s pen as she carefully signs one, and then the other, sheet of paper, before giving both a small shake and handing them to Kara and Alex. “Voila! I’ll take you both to the door leading to the secretary for Mr. Lord’s secret files, but remember I ain’t going with you any further.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and then we gotta go in, show these documents to this old dude who’s probably a bit creepy from the way he stares at your ass, we charm the schmuck with our wily, handsome crossdressing ways, search the files for what we’re lookin’ for and then get out.”

Neither Sam nor Kara look impressed.

(Though Kara did look more amused than anything else.)

Alex simply glares at them both. “Are we finally good to get this over with?”

Sam shakes her head. “Just one more thing.” And Sam steps up to Alex. Kara shifts uncomfortably as she sees how Sam’s hand rests on Alex’s bicep, squeezing gently; how Sam bends down slightly to press a gentle kiss on Alex’s cheek. “Just needed to give you some luck.” Alex bows her head and, with a blush, marches out of the door.

Kara finds herself reaching for the door before it closes when Sam grasps her wrist. “Could I have a moment?”

Kara shrugs, pulling her hand back. “Sure.” The door shuts close.

“Lena only told me that you two needed to see some documents of Maxwell Lord, but I ain’t that kind of idiot. I know that there’s… something odd here. So just…” Sam shrugs. “Be careful. Lena’s the kind to keep things close to her chest, because she thinks it’s her cross to bear. That’s the kind of idiot she is. And…” She trails off, as if she doesn’t need to finish the thought.

(Kara’s sure she doesn’t either.)

Kara doesn’t respond; she just nods, opens the door and steps through.

* * *

The Guard turns out to be exactly the kind of man Sam described to them. Shaking hands and a lecherous smile; as they show him the signed papers, he takes a quick glance at them. “Ms. Arias signed these, didn’t she? Lucky devils. Such a shame she’s got a kid, huh. Couldn’t tell she ever had one.”

Kara sees Alex feign a smile from the corner of her eyes; the same smile that Alex shot Kara before the great rugelach incident of ‘30. It’s a smile that precedes a month of nightmares; not that The Guard would know.

( _Yet_ Kara’s mind unhelpfully provides.)

For the sake of their mission, Kara speaks up. “At least the father’s not in the picture anymore, right?” She nudges Alex with her elbow (half for show, half for warning) and The Smile™ is suddenly aimed at her.

(An unpleasant roiling sensation suddenly fills her stomach and she can’t decide if it’s fear of Alex or disgust at herself for saying those words.)

The Guard nods along, unaware of the danger he’s in. “I guess that’s true. You young sheiks have a much better shot at her than an old codger like me. What I wouldn’t give to be 20 years younger; give her a slap on her ass and teach her a thing or two about real men.” The Smile™ rapidly swings back toward him; Alex’s jaw tighter than Kara’s ever seen it before. “Well it ain’t like she’d be here much anyway; women am I right? Can’t be trusted with anything important.”

(Kara instinctively takes a step back, trying to move out of the danger zone.)

Alex’s voice is tight, and her fingers are clenching against the palm of her hands. “If ya wouldn’t mind…”

The Guard shrugs. “Yeah, yeah yeah, you two are busy, important men that I ain’t ever heard of before. Gotta hurry you through; but, just between us guys… admit it, you’d be drooling with the rest of us if Sammy came to your door wearing a trenchcoat and not much else.”

Kara intervenes, again. “Oh, Alex here was charming Ms. Arias for the entire time we were with her, isn’t that right?”

Alex holds her fists behind her back, presumably to stop The Guard to notice that her knuckles are white.

(Kara holds her breath; she _knows_ Alex, knows that she’s not about to endanger everything they’ve planned; she’s not about to ruin their best shot at finding out if Maxwell Lord was involved in Lex’s death. But… she’s also never seen Alex like _this_.)

When Alex finally speaks, Kara’s impressed by the fact that her teeth are only slightly clenched. “Ya right Clark. That Sam is one foxy lady. Couldn’t miss my chance to make an impression.”

The Guard chuckles in agreement. Alex does not.

“Ain’t that the Lord’s Truth?” The Guard gestures at the door behind him. “Anyway, you two can go on in; got an hour before you have to get out.”

Kara’s never seen Alex move so fast; she’s through the door in an instant. Kara stays long enough to give The Guard an “appreciative” nod, and then she’s following behind.

The door swings shut behind them and Kara breathes a sigh of relief. Alex is standing in front of a filing cabinet; staring at it as if she’s about to throw a punch.

“He’s even worse that Sam made him out to be, huh?” Alex doesn’t react to Kara’s words. “I am really sorry, shvester of mine. I-I-” Kara’s voice trails off yet Alex’s jaw relaxes a mere bit; it’s not much but it’s _something_. “Good thing we don’t eat pork, hm? Or else ya’d be noshing on his bones for a long time.” Her jaw relaxes a little further and the corners of Alex’s lips lift up just a little.

“Yeah, yeah. Now let’s get started. We ain’t got long.”

* * *

As Kara opens her seventh indistinguishable filing cabinet, she’s certain of one fact: Maxwell Lord’s files are so interminably boring that she feels her mind slowly shutting down; Kara definitely prefers the party section of her investigation. Each file looks the same as her eyes glaze over them. While, perhaps, someone at the local police station would like to get their hands on what she reads, they’re mostly memos and receipts; some have a scrawled note or two in their margins.

The real kicker, however, is the lack of organization; no headings, no seeming sense or order to the cabinets itself. A fact that Alex has been largely bemoaning since the moment she opened the first cabinet. “Why couldn’t Maxwell Lord be assed to make this not a hegdesch?”

“Probably because he’s never let a sensible woman in here.” 

Alex snorts in agreement. “Probably not an insensible one either.”

Kara laughs as she pulls out the next file. “Yeah, yeah.” She loses her smile when she opens it, and reads through; she’s frowning when she stops and reads it again. “Alex, here, look at this.”

Alex saunters over. “Yes?”

Kara holds out the file for Alex’s inspection, specifically a page in the middle of it. “Looks like Maxwell Lord was in negotiations with Lex… he was asking about buying Luthor Productions?”

Alex frowns. “Motive for murder then? Drop prices and buy it cheap.”

“I don’t think so.” Her finger trails a scrawled note in the margins. “It says here ‘board opposed. Without Lex, deal would never even have chance to see light of day… owe him a debt of gratitude. Obviously never tell him… MG tells me that board is in talks about removing Lex. Don’t have a replacement, however. If they tell the bitch, the deal is dead.’” Kara rolls her eyes. “It goes on and on like that for a while.”

Alex sighs, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “That man is a tsaddik and a macher. Why did we ever suspect him?”

“Shh. We all already knew Mr. Lord is a shtuck drek. But who’s the...” Kara wrinkles her nose, ‘bitch’?”

“Lena, perhaps?”

“Maybe? But I didn’t think she had any interest in running Luthor Productions.”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe she doesn’t. Doesn’t mean she necessarily wants her family’s company in the hands of Maxwell Lord of all assholes.”

Kara flips to the next page. “And here we got a familiar name; Laurel Lance.”

“Laurel Lance? Why is that--”

Kara interrupts. “Sara Lance’s sister; also Executive Vice-President of Legal for Luthor Productions and that’s all we’re gonna say about the topic.”

(Kara doesn’t need to look over to know Alex’s sputter comes with a blush.)

“‘Laurel Lance spoke to me…’ and then he goes on and on about how ‘lucky’ Lex is to have her work for him, oh and ‘she told me that Lex is slowly winning over the board…’”

“I’m not seeing much motive here, do ya?”

Kara shakes her head. “I don’t.”

Alex pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “It’s actually pretty strong evidence that he wanted Lex Luthor alive.”

“ _Drek_.”

Alex straightens her shoulders and spine. “Well, we got twenty more minutes; maybe we’ll find something else here?”

“Find out about what?” A new voice speaks out from the back of the room, and both Kara and Alex spin around to face this newcomer.

They are met with the smirk of Maxwell Lord.

“Oh Mr. Lord! What a pleasant surprise!” Kara’s teeth sink into her cheek, hoping beyond hope that she sounds anywhere near convincing.

“It is, isn’t it? But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you here looking for?” He hums and smiles, clearly waiting for a response.

(Kara imagines that Maxwell Lord’s smile is supposed to be charming, but it’s fairly easy to find it anything but.)

(And the smile he shoots them at that moment turns Kara’s blood to ice.)

As Alex and Kara glance at each other rapidly, unanswering, he barrels on, clearly uncaring of whatever suttered excuses they’d be able to come up with. “Here’s the thing; you are here, in my private files, without me knowing. Nor do I know how long you’ve been here. That means that at least one person helped you get in. That is something I need to know. So…” he pauses, as if for dramatic effect, “I’m not very inclined in letting you go without some answers, at the very least.”

His eyes glance down to the folder in Kara’s hand. “Beginning, obviously, with that.”

Kara, in a split moment, makes a quick decision and drops the file, shuffling her feet to “accidentally” knock it under the cabinet.

(Alex is going to kill her for that decision later, but right now, it’s the first and only idea she has.)

Maxwell Lord looks at the cabinet, looks back up at Kara, looks back down at the cabinet, and back up at Kara one more time. “What in--?”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish before Alex slams her shoulder into him, sending him sprawling on the floor, as she rushes to the door. “Clark! Come on!”

Kara didn’t need to be told twice before her feet fall into tandem with Alex’s.

(She may take a moment to carelessly knee Maxwell Lord in the face, as he tries to push himself upwards.)

The _rush_ of the run, the thrill of the escape, is a familiar sensation; her favourite part of her old life. 

(It’s the reason she no longer does it.)

(Kara definitely doesn’t take a moment to flip of The Guard, but only because Alex already has knocked him over. Kara's pretty sure Alex did that on purpose.)

As they round the corner, Kara can’t help but let loose a carefree, tinkling laugh that follows them all the way through the doors, and out the entrance of Lord Studios.

* * *

On their way back home, Alex parted from Kara with a succinct message; she simply stated “I’ve got to go talk with a sheyne meydel about a horse”, before rushing in the other direction. Kara is desperately avoiding the thought of what, exactly, that might be a euphemism for.

(But… given what happened, given the fact that The Guard may guess Sam’s part in Alex and Kara’s _plan_ , it may be nowhere near as… unthinkable as Kara presumes.)

(She’s still not thinking about it, however.)

Shoving these thoughts to one side, Kara has barely been able to remove her bindings and wash her face (and not much else) when she hears a knock on the door; quickly adjusting herself for decency’s sake, she startles somewhat when she opens the door and _Lena_ is on the other side.

(It doesn’t help that, when Kara sees Lena’s face, she’s instantly reminded of the last time she saw it; she suddenly feels a phantom pressure against her lips.)

That memory grows in force as Lena presses a quick peck to Kara’s lips in greeting; and Kara is left flat-footed, unsure when this change in their relationship occurred.

(After all, what happened last… that was a parting kiss; a farewell, not a hello.)

(Also it was obviously on the cheek, not the lips. Mostly. Probably.)

Lena, for her part, seems absolutely calm, except for the way her walk becomes oh so slightly stiffer and her hand pull into a tight fist.

She’s wearing a deep blue dress that rests just beneath her shoulders, leaving her upper chest quite open; and Kara’s eyes drawn to each twitch of her jaw, cascading down her neck and shoulders.

“So, let me guess; Sam told ya where I live.”

Lena shakes her head. “Alex, actually. I was at Sam’s, watching Ruby, when she appeared. Made some mention of how she’s going to be… very busy tonight.” She laughs, mirthlessly. “I decided not to make further inquiries, lest I learn something I didn’t desire to.”

Kara shrugs. “Probably less interesting than ya think. Sam… Let’s just say that there was a hiccup or two.”

Lena smirks. “That’s a perfect segue into what I wanted to ask. What did Kara Danvers get up to today?”

Kara shakes her head. “I don’t know what ya on about Lena; Kara Danvers was resting up from while out with a kadoches.” At Lena’s confused look, Kara laughs. “A fever. Now… Clark Dancer on the other hand.” She waggles her eyebrows and Lena laughs.

“Oh my darling starling,” she rests a hand on Kara’s bicep. “I’m so sorry for my mistake. Let me know what Clark Dancer got up to today.”

So, as Kara leads them both to some chairs, Kara begins to recount.

(Her eyes can’t stray far from Lena’s expressive eyes, wide and drinking in every word; no matter how many times Kara stumbles and loses track of what word she was in the middle of saying.)

(She’s even distracted from flicking her eyes toward _his_ door, her ears not tuned to hear whether _he_ is making any noise.)

When Kara finishes relating the day’s events, Lena’s brows furrow, as her lips slightly part, and her nose flares. Kara can’t read that expression, doesn’t _understand_ what emotions she’s meant to be seeing; the look alien on Lena’s face, when she's always so carefully constructed. So, instead, Kara sits back, and lets Lena deign to explain.

“Kara…” Lena trails off as soon as she begins to speak. As her words fail her, however, Lena’s body springs into action; her hands reaching to gently touch Kara’s jaw, as if assuring Lena that Kara is _here_ , that the almost amusing interaction with Maxwell Lord did not turn tragic. That Lena moves the chair closer and closer to Kara, as if physical proximity will somehow settle her emotions. As if...

Kara can’t help but think that how Lena’s leaning in, how her face approaches Kara’s, is unconscious; another action in a long line of not-mistakes that mark their every interaction.

(But Kara is not going to be the one to stop Lena; she’ll _never_ be the one to do so.)

(She’s fairly certain that’s been true since the day that Kara walked into the Tribune’s office.)

Their lips are a mere inch apart, Kara’s mind is racing wondering if finally, _finally_ it will... when--

A loud shout comes from Eliza’s room. 

(A loud shout comes from _his_ room.)

Kara’s on her feet in an instant, flinging open the door; thoughts of Lena and their near kiss driven from her mind.

**

She catches Jeremiah’s face, contorted into another scream, although she cannot hear it; the blood pounding in her ears and adrenaline overwhelming her senses. His fingers scratching at his wrist, with thin red lines already forming. She grabs his wrists, attempting to stop himself from breaking the skin, as his blank eyes begin to focus on her, staring, on the edge of memory. Kara feels herself whispering to him, though what exactly, she doesn’t know. Just any words that might return him to his world of calm.

(Kara hopes it’s a world of calm, at least. She wouldn’t know; perhaps he is eternally trapped in his head, eternally _screaming_.)

His eyes clear and suddenly he’s regarding her. His voice tremulous when he speaks, betraying a heavy accent. “K-Kara?”

“I’m here feter, I’m here.”

“W-where is… my tokhter? Where is Alex?”

(His words are heavy; unlike Alex, Kara and Eliza, he’s only been in the US for a few years, immobile for most of them.)

(Ever since he lost his ability to walk, ever since the… _incident_ , he only forgoes English when he can’t find a word; refusing to respond to their native tongue. Especially for Alex and Kara.)

Kara’s voice trembles to when she responds, but from emotions rather than clumsiness; no matter how many times she’s done this, it never fails to trip her up. “Alex is out, feter, living a life. She is alive and well and _happy_.”

Jeremiah’s face relaxes into a small smile. “Gut, gut. My tokhter, happy. And who is…” He trails off, and Kara looks over her shoulder; in her haste, she forgot the door is wide-open, and as much as Lena tries to remain out of sight, crunched up in a corner, it is impossible to ignore her radiance.

“Feter, she’s a friend of mine. Her name is Lena.”

“What a sheyne meydel.”

Kara giggles despite herself. “She is, isn’t she?”

Jeremiah doesn’t say any more; Kara remains holding his hands, though with a loosened grip, as the distant look returns to him. When she’s certain that he’s no longer responsive, Kara gets up and closes the door behind her.

Then she sees the look on Lena’s face; instead of pity or embarrassment, she sees concern, concern for Kara, concern that maybe Lena herself shouldn’t be here, “Jeremiah… he…” Kara trails off, her breath sounding on the edge of panic. “He’s… Ever since…” Suddenly she feels a faint pressure against her shoulders as she barely realizes that Lena is wrapping her up in a hug, holding her close to her chest. The world reduces to a steady heartbeat, and the warm enclosure of Lena’s grasp.

**

After minutes the world finally calms enough for to Kara pull away from Lena, only to find their faces barely separated.

(And what they were doing before Jeremiah’s outburst finally kicks in for Kara, the memory of Lena’s lips, so close, once again, only to be driven away. Not this time.)

Kara presses a quick kiss to Lena’s lips, and pulls back, trying to let Lena know… something, _anything_ about their situation.

Lena’s eyes are wide, and her mouth opens a few times before she manages to say any words. “I… That… I…” Lena’s shaking her head, clearly still at a loss for words, before she grabs Kara by the collar and smashing their mouths together.

(The action is too familiar; Kara _knows_ exactly how to slot her lips against Lena, how to gently pull her bottom lip between her teeth, exactly how to run her tongue against Lena’s lip to gain entrance, how to grasp Lena by the hips as Lena wraps her hands around Kara’s neck.)

(It’s altogether too familiar for a relationship that, supposedly, isn’t going to Go There.)

Kara’s almost lost herself in the sensation when Lena pulls away. However, as she turns, as if to flee, Kara grasps Lena by the waist and pulls her close.

Lena shivers under Kara’s touch, at the casual display of strength, and if that isn’t an ego booster. “I--I told you, w-we can’t--”

Kara presses a kiss to Lena’s neck and Lena’s voice cuts off. “Tell me that ya honestly and truly don’t want this and I will stop.”

Lena’s voice quivers. “I-I can’t, n-not honestly and truly.”

Kara presses another kiss to Lena’s neck, higher, closer to the shell of her ear. “Then tell me why we can’t.”

“Y-you don’t know me.” And Kara can’t deny the point; they’ve known each other for such a short period of time, and most of that under the context of Kara’s investigation; the things that they actually know about each other is probably not that great. But…

(Kara thinks of how Lena calms her, brings out a side that remembers _home_. And she knows how she has to respond.)

“I wanna.”

“I-if you knew me--” Lena’s voice hitches as Kara scrapes her teeth against Lena’s ear. “Y-you wouldn’t--” Kara’s grasp around Lena’s waist moves down to Lena’s hips; Lena whines, a throaty thing that Kara wishes to analyze over and over again.

So she squeezes her fingers, gently, exploring the ridge of Lena’s hip. Lena bucks back against Kara, and she can feel the _warmth_ of Lena pressed against her. “I wouldn’t what?”

“I can’t risk--” Kara’s fingers grip tighter, and Lena shakes her head, gritting through whatever complicated fog of arousal and fear she’s working through. “If you know, there’s no way-- _fuck_.” The expletive is little more than a sigh, and Kara can’t help resist flipping Lena around, letting Lena’s head rest on her chest.

Lena for her part grasps the collar of Kara’s shirt again and for a beautiful moment, her mouth, open lipped and hot, is taking Kara’s bottom lip into her own and between her teeth and she’s tugging out. Then Kara’s lips chases air as her head involuntarily falls forward, slightly, trying to find Lena’s lips one more. But Lena… Lena’s taken a step back.

Kara catches Lena’s eyes and she _sees_ how Lena’s pupils are blown wide, that the confusing array of colours that Lena’s eyes are is restricted to only a very thin band around them; Lena’s panting and sucking down air. A hand (Lena’s hand) suddenly gently rests on her cheek, and Kara falls into the touch; how she can feel each point of contact between her and _Lena_. 

Lena takes a deep breath. “Kara, I’m sorry. You can _never_ understand how much I-I want this. How much I wish I could tell you. But it’s too important--” She sighs. “If you were to ask, I would tell you anything but this.” Lena smiles, her eyes now watery, her breath now quivering, and her hands shaking slightly.

(Kara’s hands burn to wrap Lena into a hug, to feel Lena either calm or break within her arms, but she’s paralyzed, uncertainty buzzing in her head.)

(In her mind she reminds Lena that this is nothing _new_ ; that Lena’s already told Kara this and Kara doesn’t _care_ , is willing to look the world in the eye and defy it, just to know.)

(In her mind she shouts and tears down whatever insecurity or fact about the world, fact about _Lena_ , is stopping her, stopping _this_.)

(In her mind she does a thousand and one things, each a desperate attempt to set the world _aright_ ; in the real world, she doesn’t press. She can’t, not with Lena’s trembling body, Lena’s request grounding her.)

(In the real world, Kara simply nods.)

Lena reaches up and presses one more kiss to Kara’s lips; a parting shot of this stage in their relationship.

(And, really, how many parting shots will Kara, will their attraction, their… _potential_ receive?)

Kara sighs, letting the tension in her shoulders drain away from this infinitely long day, as she runs her hand through her hair haphazardly. She looks out the window and notices that it’s become dark outside; and her stomach is beginning to make its displeasure known. “Well alright then. At least stay for dinner.” She pairs her request with a pout, hoping to not have to eat on her own.

Lena shrugs, nonchalant, as if this whole situation is not weighing heavily upon her. “Sure.”

(It doesn’t stop the veil behind Lena’s eyes from dropping, the artificial divide she keeps arbitrarily throwing up around Kara.)

The rest of the evening is passed in quiet; Kara warms some stew for her and Lena to eat, which they do in silence. Neither Alex nor Eliza return, not that Kara expected them to; and once the dishes are clear, Kara finds herself desperate to keep Lena _here_ , to affirm their ever loosening boundaries of their friendship.

“It’s late; ya might as well sleep over.”

(Neither of them talk once Lena noiselessly nods; Kara’s gentle press of a change of clothes into Lena’s hand does not go remarked upon, nor how Lena, instead of choosing to sleep in Alex’s bed, curls up against Kara as they lie down in her cramped bed.)

It is only as sleep draws heavily on Kara’s eyelids that she breaks the silence, in one final attempt to shape how Lena views herself.

(Except it’s not the final attempt; it will never be. As long as Lena doubts, Kara knows she _wants_ to be there to support.)

“Ya deserve the world Lena, ya really do.”

Lena doesn’t respond; at least, not before Kara drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So of my original promises, we only have the solution to Lex's death and the communism left and I promise, promise this time that these will both be in the next chapter since... well there's nothing left for me to write.
> 
> And hey, here's an idea! I'd love to hear you guys's thoughts on who killed Lex! Come on, give me theories! Just, for when this fic is actually finished, ya know don't spoil it. Let readers who are reading this after it's finished a chance to join in the fun. This is a murder mystery dammit, trying to figure out who is always my favourite part.
> 
> Translations:  
> goy: a non-Jewish individual  
> Oh shvaygn: Oh, shut up.  
> young sheiks: while not yiddish, it is like... super specific 1940's slang meaning 'sexy young men'.  
> hegdesch: a messy place (can also be translated as a pigsty, as in "your room is a pigsty")  
> tsaddik: a good person; it has connotations of righteousness.  
> macher: an important person.  
> feter: uncle  
> tokhter: daughter

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell at me on my [my Tumblr!](https://alienbeegenders.tumblr.com) Or comment! Or kudos! I love it when you guys do that! It makes my day!


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